


Unheavenly Creatures

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU, Clubbing, F/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery, References to Drugs, Slow Burn, Snowells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: When her client is found dead of an overdose of a new and very dangerous drug, PI Sara Lance tracks the drug back to Gaudia, a popular nightclub run by Leonard Snart. Under the guise of their new bartender, Sara infiltrates the club to find the dealer responsible. But as she spends time with the employees of Gaudia, Sara starts to fall for their lifestyle...and the reclusive owner. Her mission becomes secondary as she finds that there's more to Leonard than meets the eye - and that he just might be dealer she's looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

This wasn’t how she wanted to find him.

Sara Lance’s arms were crossed, and she cracked her knuckles out of sight. The faint popping was lost in the sound of the chattering crowd. No one paid her any mind, too distracted by the body on the ground, only recently covered with a tarp. But Sara had seen the tattoo on his arm, the easily identifiable marking she’d studied.

The yellow police tape kept the masses back, but Sara had nudged her way to the front, her elbows brushing the resilient plastic, now she stood near the coroner’s van, half hidden behind the door and eavesdropping.

“...guess seems to be an overdose.”

“Another one?” A heavy sigh. “We’ve gotta find this dealer. Whatever they’re spreading is laced with something nasty.”

“I thought Star City was the one with the fucked up shit,” said a third voice.

“Welcome to the CCPD,” said the first voice. “The origin of fucked up.”

A clearing of a throat ended the conversation, and an authoritative voice spoke up. “Get this place cleared out. Get the body back to the morgue. No statements to take, so start knocking on doors.”

“Captain-”

“Now, Officer Doyle.”

A strong, tall man with broad shoulders and a week of scruff stepped out from behind the truck wearing the blue uniform and angry scowl of an officer on door duty. His grey eyes searched the crowd sullenly and Sara slipped back into the masses, avoiding his gaze. It wouldn’t do to be spotted by him.

Besides, there was nothing more she could do here.

Stepping away from the crowd, Sara pulled her phone out from her purse, typing a quick text and sending it out.

**You gotta give me something.**

The response was almost immediate.  **Not again. You promised it would be the last time.**

**He’s dead. Give me something.**

She could almost hear the sigh before the next text came. It wasn’t a message, but a picture of the man’s wrist.

A stamp of some kind, in glow in the dark ink that had been lit before sending the image. An ornate G, standing between two lines with a small triangle sitting above it, and two wavy lines below.

A club stamp. Recent enough to have been the last place he’d been seen alive. She’d seen it before, but couldn’t place the venue. But she would.

Another image came through, of a small plastic bag marked with a bisected C. Must have been what he overdosed on.

**Thanks** , she sent out.

**Don’t mention it. Seriously. Not ever.**

Sara put the phone back into her purse, tugging the leather strap over her shoulder again, and stepped onto the sidewalk. As she walked, she took a moment to breathe deeply, then she sent out another message.

**I have information. Meet me at my place at 7.**

There was no response, but she didn’t think there would be.

The sidewalks grew more and more empty and trash piles heaping higher the further she walked into the former glory portion of Central City. After living here for two years, she could nearly pinpoint the street where the financial section ended and the dangerous section began. Most people avoided it, especially after the S.T.A.R. Labs explosion. It was where the remains of the lab were located, where the gangs had taken over after the police were hesitant to take control. It was where Sara lived and worked.

After returning from the reclusive League in Nanda Parbat, Sara had recovered and sought help in Star City, and had been mildly successful in doing so. But she needed a change, to get away from her past, so she moved out to Central City, where no one knew her and started over. No one knew about her father or sister, or why she had been missing for three years. No one knew about the blood on her hands and her special skills were attributed to her police officer father.

No one knew anything except for what Sara told them, and that was how she liked it.

Sara used a key to unlock a rusty door in an alleyway. The front door was open, but she preferred sneaking in the back and getting ready before meeting with her students. She hung her coat up in a locker, pulling out her gym bag. The dress and tights were replaced with a tank top and leggings, the heels replaced with sneakers, and her flowing locks were pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck. She pulled a pair of gloves on over her manicured nails and grinned, stepping out onto the mat of Ted’s Gym, and seeing several of her students ready to go.

“Let’s get started,” Sara said.

* * *

“No, but I’m seriously seeing a real difference,” Iris said, her dark eyes dancing with her smile.

Sara grinned, pulling on her heels again. “Good.”

“I’m not,” said the third girl in the room, her light brown hair tumbling over her shoulders as she flipped the ends out from her collar. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of this stuff.”

“You will, Cait,” Sara said. “You’ve got good instincts, you just have to trust them.”

“Instincts aren’t exactly my specialty,” Caitlin retorted, zipping up her bag.

Iris stood, buttoning her jeans and slipping her feet back into her boots. “You couldn’t land a punch to save your life when we started. Now, not only do you hit, but you hurt. You’re getting it.”

“Maybe,” Caitlin said. She smiled. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“I’ve got a meeting.” Sara answered, combing her hair with her fingers.

“Did you find him?” Iris asked, falling into step as the three of them left the gym.

Sara nodded, her mouth a thin line. It was a familiar expression to the others.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlin said quietly. “Do they know what killed him?”

“They’re saying it’s an overdose, but weird. It’s laced with something.”

Iris’s eyes narrowed. “That’s been going around. Police have been trying to track this dealer down for months. Drug related deaths have spiked 26% since this shit hit the streets.”

“And how would you know that?” Caitlin asked, leaning past Sara to glare at Iris.

She grinned, unrepentant. “I have my sources.”

“Yeah, and tell your source thanks for me. He sent me a couple of pictures. Speaking of,” she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, “do either of you recognize this club?”

Caitlin shook her head, but Iris gasped. “Yes. That’s Gaudia. The club off of Brookfield. Super classy, super nice. I tried to get you guys to go there last month.”

“Want to go tonight?” Sara asked.

Iris stuck her tongue out at her. “Of course you would. I have dinner tonight with Barry, and we’re not rescheduling again.”

“How about you, Cait?”

“Sure. I could use a little music.” Caitlin’s smile faded somewhat, “But Sara...if he’s already dead-”

“It just means my job was prolonged. I found him, but now I need to know why he died. And if this drug is as bad as they say, it’s just going to keep becoming a problem.”

“And of course, how dare we expect the police to handle it,” Iris said, cutting her eyes at Sara.

Ignoring that, Sara paused at Iris’s bus stop, her arms crossing. “With idiots like Doyle on the case, I doubt it’ll be investigated like it should be.”

Iris shrugged. “That’s fair. Alright, you ladies have fun and be careful.”

“Always,” Caitlin said, at the same time Sara said, “Never.”

“Seriously. Gaudia may be the shit, but everyone who works there has a criminal history. Arson, robbery, identify theft, hacking or something,” Iris said, waving her hand. “And the place is run by Leonard Snart.”

“Who?” asked Caitlin. The name was familiar to Sara, but only vaguely so.

“Leonard Snart. Captain Cold?” Iris said. When they both just stared at her with blank expression, Iris sighed. “Oh my god, get a police scanner already. He was number one most wanted before he turned on the Trickster in exchange for immunity,” Iris explained. “But the cops think Gaudia is a front for whatever Snart is really doing in there. They’re always staking the place out.”

All that just confirmed that Sara needed to go there as soon as possible. Criminal ties, body with the club’s mark on it? Maybe Snart was the dealer she was looking for.

Iris eyed Sara carefully. “Try not to be all PI-Sara tonight, and cut loose a little. And I expect you guys to go to Gaudia with me sometime soon.” She pointed her finger at the two of them, obviously meaning business.

“Promise,” Caitlin said, crossing her heart.

“Good. Get home safely. Call me if you find anything else on the drugs,” Iris ordered, as her bus arrived. She waved at them as she boarded, then Sara and Caitlin set off.

Sara nodded, but knew that Iris would be bugging Barry for information tonight. How the nerdy CSI tech had landed a cutthroat journalist used to be a mystery, until Sara had gotten to know young Barry Allen. His good heart and honest face had gone a long way to rid Sara of her cynicism regarding Central City cops, Doyle being a glaring exception. The two were recently engaged and living together, meaning Caitlin and Sara were able to transform Iris’s old room into a sort of office for Sara’s PI business.

They reached their building, sidestepping the homeless man who lived on the corner, and used Caitlin’s key to get in, bypassing the ancient and shoddy buzzer system. Three flights of stairs and two locks later, they reached their apartment.

It was simple - opening up into a small living room featuring eclectic but comfortable furniture, with the master suite on the left, where Caitlin stayed, and two rooms on the right, separated by the bathroom. The kitchen was behind the living room, against the windows with a high counter and several barstools. Sara immediately went into the smallest of the three rooms, where a dark desk sat in the middle, bookended with two filing cabinets that held her cases.

Caitlin started the water for tea, making a cup and disappearing into her room. The two of them, though they loved Iris, worked better living together. Iris was a extrovert, and Sara and Caitlin were two introverts, though in very different ways. With a wave, Caitlin shut her door behind her, locking out everything but her tea and her books.

Sara put her purse in her desk drawer, opening up the case file she’d put together on Marcus. Twenty three and missing for three months. He finished technical school to be an electrician, and shortly after graduation dropped off the face of the earth. Michaela had said that a fight at his graduation involving their father had sent Marcus out into the street, where she hadn’t heard from her brother for a few weeks before she called Sara for help.

Well, Marcus wasn’t missing any longer.

A buzz went through the room, and Sara got up to the intercom. “Hello?”

_ “It’s Michaela. Can you buzz me in?” _

Sara pressed the button. “Come on up.”

It was just a few minutes later when there was a knock at Sara’s door. She checked the peephole and recognized Michaela at the door. Undoing the chain, Sara let Michaela in, showing her to the office.

“So you found him?” Michaela asked, leaning forward and wringing her hands together.

Sara shut the door and took her seat. “I did, but it’s not good news.”

Michaela’s eyes started to swim, but she didn’t let the tears fall. “He’s dead, then.”

Sara nodded, though it wasn’t a question. “They found his body today.”

Michaela swallowed hard. “What happened?”

“Drugs.”

“Marcus didn’t do the hard stuff, nothing that would get him hurt,” Michaela argued.

Sara showed her the picture of the packet. “Do you recognize this?”

“No. What is it?”

“I don’t know, yet. But I’m going to find out.” Sara put her phone away. “You can identify him down at the morgue.”

Michaela nodded, the tears finally starting to fall. “You...I owe you your money.”

“My job isn’t done yet,” Sara reminded her gently. “You just deal with the arrangements. I’ll deal with everything else. I’ll call you when it’s over.”

“Sara-”

“The job’s not done.”

* * *

“This is the damage-your-hearing-permanently kind of loud.”

Sara glanced at Caitlin, smirking. Though Caitlin certainly looked the part in her silver heels and green sheath dress, the scientist portion of her never rested. It was a quality that was both endearing and annoying in equal measures.

“I find drinking helps muffle the noise,” Sara said.

“Then the first round’s on me,” Caitlin said. “I’ll be right back.”

Gaudia was a massive building that Sara had seen a few times, though had never stopped to take a real look. The front had been imposing, massive wrought iron gates reaching up along the entire front of the facade. Fake pillars supported the entrance’s roof, and every person who passed through the gates looked up, as the ceiling opened up into a huge, round room, stairs leading down a flight to a circular bar in the center. The floor was black tile, reflecting and refracting the lights from the DJ’s table and the ceiling, bouncing it back. Silver and red chrome couches and tables lined the round hall, but the focus was the dance floor for most.

Sara’s favorite part, though, was the ceiling. Lights dotted the roof, glittering silver and white, sparking far above everyone’s heads, constant above the lights and music, and haze of sweat and singing and alcohol. She stared up, discerning a faint catwalk along the edge of the stars, and a figure standing there.

She stared a little harder, finding that the man at the top was leaning on the railing, looking down at the club. Despite the optical illusion, he really wasn’t that far above her, and as Sara continued to watch him, he seemed to be scanning the club himself. He was too far up to see her gaze, but she felt his eyes pass over her. Sara kept her focus on him until he tipped glass back, then disappeared through some hidden door above.

“Okay,” Caitlin said upon her return, precariously balancing two drinks in her hand. “That bartender is terrible. I have no idea what I have, only that it cost a lot and the pours are terrible, so enjoy.”

Sara clinked her glass against Caitlin’s, finding that at least the couch was comfortable, and the music was great, even if the drinks were barely palatable.

Sara watched the DJ for a while, the girl’s half braided and half curled locks a seriously awesome look. She seemed to be giving off a classic punk vibe, but the music that was blasting through her bones was popular and easy to dance to. The bass was a little heavier than in the originals, but fitting the mood of the club.

They spent some time weighing the pros and cons of Gaudia during the calmer sets. The music was amazing, the ambiance was unique, the place was clean, but the drinks…

“There’s no hope for it,” Caitlin argued. “Bad drinks ruin everything and we can’t dance if we can’t drink!”

“Says you,” Sara challenged, dragging her onto the dance floor.

Though the drinks weren’t great, they got Caitlin loosened up enough to dance. They tore up the dance floor, Sara’s aggression melting away with each thump of the bass and swirl of her hips. Dancing was always an amazing release, second only to-

“Bathroom!” Caitlin called.

Sara followed her to the side of the club furthest from the doors, stepping to the side as three girls fell giggling out of the door, their eyes dilated and glassy. Sara narrowed her gaze, but the three of them continued on, lost in the writhing bodies on the dance floor, but Caitlin was disappearing behind the door and Sara had to follow her. The bathroom was opulent, much like the rest of the club and, miraculously, empty.

Caitlin went into a stall, closing it behind her. Sara walked in front of the stalls, pushing them open with her finger.

“I do love this DJ, though,” Caitlin said, through the door.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Sara answered, lifting up the small trashes on the inside of each stall. “Really reads the crowd.” She went into the handicapped stall and lifted the trash lid, seeing three dime bags on top, labeled with a cut through C.

Sara was leaning against the wall when Caitlin came out of the stall and washed her hands. “Still, don’t know if that’s enough to keep me coming back,” Caitlin said, drying her hands off.

“Oh, I don’t know. There might be something worth coming back for.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick sucks at tending bar.  
> Sara's timing is a little too convenient.  
> I google recipes.

“A venti macchiato! And a venti chai tea latte!”

The barista shouted out over the clamor of the coffee shop on Wednesday. It was only the beginning of October, but it was definitely fall, and the place was packed with people warming themselves with their lunchtime coffees.It had taken her several days to figure their patterns out, but Sara had finally found her targets and the perfect opportunity. She’d been staking out this coffee shop for days already, and getting a little sick of macchiatos.

Sara went up to the counter, busying herself with the lid and holders as two women approached the counter. One was the DJ from Gaudia, her hair still half braided. Sara had discovered her name was Charlie, but didn’t have a last name, which was interesting and irritating in equal measures. Charlie’s companion was Zari Tomaz, a darker woman, with a sarcastic tilt to her brow that Sara liked immediately. Sara wasn’t certain what Zari’s role in Gaudia was, but she was willing to bet a girl with that look was significant to their operation.

Sara shifted to the side, seeing Zari grab the wrong cup - because Sara had shifted them as the barista called them out - and turn away.

“Excuse me,” Sara said, following them to the door and away from other patrons, holding out the other cup. “I think you grabbed mine by mistake.”

“Oh,” Zari stopped, glancing at the cup. “My bad. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said, smiling as she took her macchiato. “Hey, aren’t you the DJ at Gaudia?”

Charlie grinned. “That I am.”

Her accent was laced with a bad reputation and Sara liked it even more. “I love your playlists. Honestly, they’re great,” Sara said, completely guileless.

“Thanks.” Charlie grinned at Zari. “See? Someone thinks I’m great.”

“With seven and a half billion people, I suppose it was likely someone would,” Zari said, sipping her tea.

Sara laughed despite herself, “But seriously, the music’s the only reason I keep going back.”

“How’s that?” Charlie asked, stepping aside to let others pass.

“No offense, but your bartender sucks.”

Zari snorted into her cup, turning her face away to wipe the foam off. Charlie, on the other hand, laughed loudly.

“No shit,” Charlie announced. “We had a good one, but she went off for a coffee shop and her new boyfriend, so Mick’s been covering.”

“Mick is many things, but not a bartender,” Zari agreed.

Sara smiled. “Look, this may weird, but...I used to bartend at Verdant, in Star City. I’m looking for a job now, and I love your club. Don’t suppose you’re looking for a replacement from Mick, are you?”

Charlie glanced at Zari, who focused a bit more on Sara, her gaze measuring. “What was your name again?”

“Sara Lance.”

“I’m Zari Tomaz,” she said. “I’m the manager, kind of.” She looked down over Sara’s long sleeve floral dress, the black leggings and heeled boots, and Sara saw the judgement, especially considering Gaudia’s dark and ethereal vibe. “How long did you work for Verdant?”

“Three years, after I got back into town,” Sara said. “I can give you my manager’s number if you want a reference.”

Zari shrugged, but Sara made a note to grab Thea’s number soon. “That’s okay. You don’t exactly fit the look, but...sure. Why not? We need a bartender. You free today?”

“I’m good this afternoon, but I’m not exactly prepared for a full shift.” A lie, but a necessary one.

Zari nodded, unsurprised - why would someone be prepared for a night shift on such short notice? “That’s fine. Why don’t you come by ‘round four? We’ll run you through the paces, and if you’re a good fit, I’ll have you sign the paperwork today, and we’ll start you later this week.”

Charlie grinned next to Zari, ans Sara’s answering smile wasn’t faked in the slightest.

“Sounds great,” Sara said. “Do you want my number so you can text me any other details?”

Zari nodded, handing her drink to Charlie to get her phone out. She typed in Sara’s number and sent a quick text with her name, before following it up with Gaudia’s address and the time they agreed on.

“Go through the alley on the right and come in through the metal door. I’ll make sure it’s unlocked,” Zari said. “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

Charlie winked at her and waved as the two of them left.

Sara glanced at the text and smiled. Now she just had to get herself a job.

* * *

“How does this look?” Sara asked, stepping out into the kitchen.

Caitlin, sitting at one of the barstools looked up from her bowl of chili. “In what context?”

“Bartender,” Sara said.

Caitlin narrowed her eyes and lowered her spoon. “Didn’t know you were looking for employment.”

Sara smiled, but Caitlin wasn’t swayed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s for work,” Sara said.

Caitlin merely stared.

“I found the same drug that killed Marcus at the club last night. I think the dealer works or frequents there.”

“And you’re...what?” Caitlin asked. “Going to take him in to the cops you can’t stand? Scare him out of town? Get him to admit on tape that he gave Marcus the drug that killed him?”

“I need to know the truth,” Sara said. “He deserves that much. And if I can keep someone else from dying from this shit, don’t I have to try?”

Caitlin sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Sara…”

“I know. But I can’t just stop now.”

Caitlin shook her head slowly, and Sara felt a faint sense of guilt, her eyes dropping as she remembered one of the many times Caitlin had stitched her up when she refused to go to the hospital, because Sara had pursued a lead too far and pissed off the wrong people. She remembered the phone calls late at night telling Caitlin to spend the night with Iris or in a hotel, because someone had followed Sara home. She remembered Caitlin staying up late to make sure she made it home safely, without ever asking her to stop or slow down. She supported Sara, even if she didn’t like where it lead her.

“I can’t just let him be forgotten,” Sara said quietly.

With a smaller than normal, but honest, smile, Caitlin stood and walked over. “You look great. Maybe a little too much color for Gaudia, but great.”

Sara took the compliment, taking another quick glance over her outfit. The low heeled black boots with silver studs were perfect for Gaudia, as were the black skinny jeans, but her red, violet, and black flowered crop top was the color Caitlin was referring to. Her hair was pulled back into a soft ponytail, keeping her hair out of her face, but it still curled over her shoulders and bounced when she walked.

“It’s just the interview today,” Sara said. “If I get it, I’ll start start later this week.”

“So free drinks for Iris and I?” Caitlin fixed the edge of Sara’s sleeve where it had folded up.

Sara smiled, the tension broken. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well, good luck,” Caitlin said, returning to her lunch. “Text me when you’re on your way home. I’ve gotta be in work early tomorrow, but I’ll keep my phone on loud if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Cait.” With a quick goodbye, Sara grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.

Gaudia was only about a half hour walk from Sara’s apartment, through some rather rough areas of town, but Sara didn’t carry the knives in her boot and in her purse just for show. Besides, she had a bit of a reputation.

When Sara had first started her PI business, no one of importance had wanted her assistance. So Sara had made her name by starting in the low income areas, looking for the people the police had give up on. Most of the stories had ended poorly, but a lot of families were grateful for knowing anything at all, even if it was bad news. Though most of her jobs had been missing persons, there’d been a few security style jobs. Protection. Those all ended happily for her clients. Less so for her targets, and frustratingly for the police.

So Sara had a two sides to her reputation. The hero who found those no one else was looking for. The delinquent who’d been picked up several times for assault, bloodied knives doing her talking for her.

Either way, there were few areas in town where her face wasn’t recognized by sight, even if they didn’t know her name.

Whichever reputation they’d heard of, they left her alone, and she arrived at the side door to Gaudia ten minutes early. A key card entry was off to the side, but a cinder block propped it open. Behind the club, she could see a truck unloading a bunch of kegs and bottles. Possibly restocking the bar. She eyed them for a minute, noting the shaved head of a large, scarred man who seemed to be in charge. As far as she could tell, it was merely alcohol being unloaded, but she noted the name of the distributor to check out later.

She knocked on the door and waited a minute, then pushed it open, and stepped into a plain hallway.

Off to the right was an open door to a small lounge, but better lit than the club. It must be meant for employees. A coffee pot was starting to percolate.on a simple white counter along the back, where a sink and a small dish rack sat, filled with mugs and a bowl. A row of beat up lockers were by the door, some empty and some holding coats and purses. There was a table in the middle, with an array of chairs around it, cards splayed on the surface in an abandoned game of solitaire. Another door off to the back of the room hid a bathroom, and a couch occupied most of one corner, with a couple pillows and a blanket along the back. It looked homey. Comfortable.

The door to the left was propped open, and Sara heard shouting and orders from the men outside. That must be their back room and storage. A staircase went up on the right, but curved so she couldn’t see the top of it.

In front of her, there was a heavy metal door. When she pushed it open, she recognized the dance floor of the club. She looked at the other side of the door, seeing another key card entry and a sign that read “Employees Only” on the door.

The club looked much the same as it was, just better lit and much quieter. There was still music playing, but it was mellow and soft, and Sara recognized Charlie at the DJ table, her headphones in place as she worked on her computer. She looked up as Sara walked in and pulled them around her neck. “Hey! Good to see you again. Z was talking with Mick, she’ll be back in a mo’.”

“No problem,” Sara said, going up to the bar. This close, and this empty, she was able to see that the floor behind the bar was lifted slightly, giving the bartender access to the shelves up top and able to pass and take items from beyond the bartop easier. The entrance was a simple lifted top, and Sara ran her hand over the dark wood with a smile.

Bartending at Verdant had been a distraction at first, from the nightmares. She slept during the day, and when she woke up, the bright sun made it clear she wasn’t back in isolated castle in Nanda Parbat, that she wasn’t being turned into a deadly weapon, a soulless killer, a cold assassin. The bar was full of sound, which kept her mind busy and distracted, she could chat with tons of people and not have to worry about forming meaningful connections, since she couldn’t handle anything meaningful at all. And music had always been a wonderful diversion from the bloodlust, forcing her to work out her energy in dance as opposed to violence.

And if she’d had to function as a bouncer a few times, well, a little violence was still fun.

But though it merely began as a tool to keep the nightmares and bloodlust at bay, Sara found she enjoyed it. She liked meeting people, she loved the vibe of the loud music and dancing, she loved making drinks and trying new things. It became fun. And it was something she was good at. Something other than killing.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Sara turned from the bar to see Zari entering with two men. One was the scarred man from outside, in dark jeans and a rolled up flannel shirt, the other was a tall, dark-haired man with a smile that seemed a little too bright and wide for the reputation this place and these people had. He was dressed in jeans and a black sweater, but it seemed of higher quality.

“No problem,” Sara said.

“This is Mick Rory,” Zari waved to the larger man. “He’s security, loading, muscle when we need it.”

Sara held out her hand, noticing that he had gloves on that hid the scars on his hands and wrists, and shook it. “Nice to meet you, I’m Sara.”

“Heard you think my bartending’s shit,” he growled.

Sara couldn’t help her smile. “Yup.”

He glared at her, then snorted. “Might be right, but anyone who wants anythin’ other than a beer is an idiot.”

“And this is Ray Palmer.” Zari jerked her head at the man on her other side. “He manages the tech and security.”

“Hi,” Sara said, shaking his hand as well.

“It’s great to meet you,” he said, that wide smile somehow still completely honest.

“You too,” said Sara.

Zari waved at her, “So go behind the bar, we’ll order some drinks and run you through the paces.”

“Sounds good,” Sara said, heading back. She took a moment to get familiarized with what was behind the counter. It was very organized, so it was simple to do. She smiled at Zari with a nod.

“I’ll have a Long Island. So what brought you to Central City?”

Sara grabbed a shaker and filled it with ice from the bucket beneath. “Looking for a fresh start. Once my dad died, I didn’t have any family left there. Kind of lost. So I came out here and started teaching some classes at Ted’s Gym.” She poured out equal measures of rum, vodka, gin, and triple sec, just eyeballing the pours. She looked up at Ray while she was putting the alcohol back.

“I will do a...mojito,” he said, with a big smile. “Why do you want to work here?”

Getting the muddler from beneath the counter, she grabbed a sprig of mint from the neatly labeled bucket and muddled it with sugar and lime juice. As she finished and put the lime juice and sugar back, she grabbed the sour mix and added that to the Long Island. “I like the vibe here. Like the music. I live in the area, so it’s convenient. And I prefer night shifts.” None of that was a lie, even if there were more reasons to work here. But she did like the place. She looked at Mick.

“Beer. You got an issue with criminals?”

Sara popped off the cap of a bottle with her palm - no small feat, but one she had perfected - and placed the bottle in front of Mick. She reached up to grab the white rum and added that to the mojito, again eyeballing her pours. She didn’t meet their eyes as she added a dash of cola and soda water to the respective drinks.

“Depends on crime. But I’ve got enough of a record to know that crime doesn’t necessarily mean evil. And no crime sure as hell doesn’t mean good. I do what I can to be a good person, and sometimes that means breaking the law.”

She put the finished drink down in front of Zari and Ray. “Long Island. Mojito. Beer.” She shrugged. “Don’t know your prices, but I’m good with numbers once I see them.”

She looked over and met Mick’s eyes. He didn’t smile, but the blue seemed a little gentler. “What’s your record?”

Sara gauged her options very quickly. If they caught her in a lie, it would ruin any chance she had, but if she told the truth, they might not take her. Even though it might ruin everything, she found that she didn’t want to lie to him.

“Assault. Twice with a deadly weapon.” When Mick merely stared, no obvious judgment, she elaborated. “I knew a girl who was having a hard time with an ex. He wouldn’t back off, so I made him. Word got around, and I helped a few other girls, a couple kids, and a few guys. Some of their abusers were easy to convince. Some took more effort.” She glanced at Zari, who didn’t seem to write her off immediately, and added, for full disclosure, “I regret going so far with a few, but I don’t regret stepping in. I’d do it again.”

Mick nodded, drawing Sara’s gaze again. He pointed at himself, “Arson.” Then at Zari, “Hacker.” Charlie. “Identity theft.” Then Ray. “Breaking and entering.” When she didn’t respond, he grabbed the drink. “You’re alright,” he said, before slamming his beer back and pushing away from the bar.

Ray sipped his drink and made a, “Mmm,” sound. Sara nearly laughed. Zari passed her drink to Charlie, who took a big sip and gave Sara a thumbs up.

“She’s good,” Charlie said, putting her headphones back on.

Zari smiled, crossing her arms. “Job’s yours, if you still want it. Hours are shit. Pay isn’t great. The people are assholes. But we have fun.”

Sara wiped her hands off on one of the bar towels, “Sounds like my kind of place.”

“Can you start Friday?” Zari asked.

“Can you start now?” Ray added.

Sara smiled. “Friday sounds great.”

“Let’s go sign some paperwork.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet Len.  
> Sara's first night of work.

Leonard Snart watched the sun set behind Central City, the tumbler at his side empty, save for a few melting ice cubes. Below him, the floor was already faintly vibrating, as Charlie got ready for tonight’s set. His apartments above Gaudia could be inconvenient, but he’d trade a few hours of attempting to sleep for convenience and security any day.

Pressing a button in on the wall, he watched the curtains come out, sliding across automatically to hide his west-facing windows. The room was dark - he hadn’t bothered with lights while the sun was up and he got ready - but he was used to it. Turning, he strode between the low, dark leather couches and placed the glass on his counter. Usually, he’d wash it himself, but he’d lost a little too much time in thought this evening, and Michelle was coming tomorrow to clean.

The dark couches were accented by the grey-white marble of his walls and floors, black and dark blue the only spots of color on the couches and little artwork he had. The door to his place opened directly into the living room, and he intended it to be overwhelming. Off to his left was an open office, the bookshelves reaching the vaulted ceiling and his desk overlooking the view of Central City. Off on the other side was an all black, marble kitchen, with black stainless steel appliances, and beyond that, his bedroom door.

Shutting the front door, it locked automatically behind him, and he started down the steps to his club, taking the right instead of the left fork at the landing.

His polished shoes reflected the faint light, the black trousers and shirt matching perfectly. His jacket lapels had a slight sheen to them, giving his suit some depth, as did the tie around his neck. All black, all meticulously cleaned and fitted to him precisely.

His first stop, as always, was the back room, where Mick organized the boxes they might need for the evening, and to check on the shipments.

“Mick,” he said as he entered, his low voice cutting through the louder thump of the music. “How is it here?”

“S’all good,” Mick said, the second he came into view. “Need to get some more soap, Tomaz says. But we’ll last until the next order.”

“Good. Everything else?” He straightened his cufflinks, his eyes casting over everything.

“Quiet. Haven’t heard anything new lately, and they’re laying low for the moment. New bartender passed muster. See how she does tonight.”

“Lance, right?” Leonard recalled from the papers Zari had him sign.

“Yeah. Sara Lance.”

“And your opinion?” He trusted Mick with almost everything, except an open flame. His read on people wasn’t based on empirical evidence, but was somehow usually spot on.

Mick opened up another box, folding the lid back with a sigh. “Not entirely sure. Gut says dangerous, but her looks says not. I think she’s on the level, but…” He shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“I’ll have to go say hello,” Leonard said.

Mick snorted, “Good luck.”

Not knowing entirely what to make of that, Leonard nodded at Mick and left the room, checking the staff lounge first and finding it empty. Making a mental note to buy more coffee for the employees, he stepped out onto the club floor, letting the heavy door separating the lounge and his stairwell swing and close.

Zari was on her tablet at one of the couches and  he nodded at her, familiar enough with the security to recognize a diagnostic check now. She was dressed in her usual all black ensemble, her hair down. She would cover for the bar during Lance’s breaks, and she was far more capable than Mick was. She waved her fingers at him, and turned back to her work.

Charlie was up at the DJ’s booth, the music already pumping, but turning down as she finished her setlist for the evening. She’d adjust it as necessary, but she had her go-to music prepared and organized. Her clothes were mostly black, with the usual shocks of red or dark purple, and her hair was in a short faux hawk. She didn’t acknowledge him, but that wasn’t his purpose. He was just checking in on things.

In the center of his club, he saw the new bartender, and his critical eye found several flaws already. Mick hadn’t mentioned she was young. She looked to be a little older than Charlie, but definitely younger than anyone else.

She was drying some shakers, stacking them within easy reach on the side. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and the black jeans were fine, as was the black tank top. But over it, Lance wore a sheer, brightly patterned wrap covered with flowers in greens, blues, reds, oranges, and yellows. It was vibrant and colorful and not in keeping with his club.

His phone buzzed with one of the numerous notifications he received throughout the day, and he pulled it out, approaching the bar. Even with the lifted floor, she was still an inch or two shorter than his six feet and one inch. She glanced up as he approached, the twist of her lips almost a smile. The blue eyes were clear - no hint of drugs or drinking on the job - and ran over him as surely as his had over her.

“You must be Sara Lance,” he said, placing his phone face down on the bartop.

Her brow quirked slightly at his words, either at the knowledge or the tone, he wasn’t certain yet. Regardless, she grabbed the next shaker and dried it. “That’s me. And you must be the mysterious Leonard Snart.”

“Correct. Welcome to the team.”

“Thanks,” she said. Her voice was low, raspy. Leonard noted the calloused knuckles of a fighter, familiar enough with them at this point in his life.

There was something about her that Leonard couldn’t quite put his finger on. He wasn’t sure if it was the way she spoke or dressed or moved, but something wasn’t quite typical about Sara Lance. His phone vibrated again and he picked it up.

“You understand,” he drawled, tapping through his phone with one hand and gesturing to her outfit with the other, “we maintain a certain...aesthetic, here.”

He didn’t look up, but he saw her smile in his peripherals just the same, another glass going into the clean pile.

“In my experience, having a bartender who’s easy to spot is worth more than ambiance.”

That made him look up at her, his brow rising slowly. “And how many years of experience is that, exactly?”

“Enough to know how to read a job application. And there was approximately fuck all in terms of a dress code.”

_ That  _ made him put his phone back into his pocket, meeting her eyes directly. She’d dropped the towel, both hands braced on the bartop. “Look here, Ms. Lance-”

“Sara,” she interrupted.

No one interrupted him, save for Mick, and it threw him off for a moment. She leaned forward slightly, smiling at him with a few too many teeth showing.

“How about a deal?” she suggested. “I make you a drink. If you don’t love it, I’ll change.”

Leonard considered it for a breath, weighing the pros and cons. Worst case, he’d have to put up with flowers. Best case, she’d change. Little risk involved and less of a chance for lingering frustrations on her part. He sat down at the bar with a nod. “I’ll have a-”

“No,” she interrupted him again. “I’ll figure it out.”

She grabbed a short tumbler and turned away from him mixing a few things together and turning back once she was muddling it in the bottom. “So, how long has this place been open?”

“Five years,” Leonard said, watching her carefully. She moved with confidence, despite this being her first night here.

“It’s a nice place,” she said. “I don’t know why I didn’t come here before.” She grabbed a bottle of his higher end whiskey - his favorite, not that she knew that. “Guess I didn’t expect something this nice in this part of town.” She glanced up at him briefly, from beneath her lashes, and he wasn’t certain if it was intentional.

Keeping his face passive, he merely asked, “Do you live around here?”

“About a half hour’s walk,” she said, adding a splash of water.

He couldn’t help the twist of his mouth at that, and she saw, smiling to herself.

“It smooths the booze,” she said.

“It waters it down.”

“Trust me, boss,” Sara grinned.

“Not yet, I won’t.”

“But you might soon?” she countered, another one of those looks at him.

He almost smiled at that. She was flirting with him, casual, nothing serious that might complicate her working here, but a little levity. He had to admit, after years of honing his reputation, it was refreshing.

She reached down and grabbed an orange garnish which she added to the glass. Plucking a napkin off the tall stack just below the bartop, she placed the drink in front of him, her brow arched and her grin confident enough to worry him.

“Go on, then,” she challenged.

He picked up the glass and took a sip. The whiskey tasted...better than usual, and that irritated him. The water really did smooth it out. The obvious tastes - the bitters and sugar - made this an old fashioned, but there was something else. Some tart taste that accentuated the whiskey.

He put the glass down. “Trust is earned,” he said. “Not given.”

“Good thing I’m dedicated.”

With a faint chuckle, he stood, taking the glass with him. “Good luck this evening.”

“Thanks, boss.”

He turned and walked away, taking another sip. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest when she called after him.

“So?”

Leonard didn’t turn around, but called back, “Keep the flowers.”

* * *

Sara smiled as she placed another round on the bartop, taking the cash they gave her and ringing them up just as efficiently. She passed them their change as she checked on the others at the bar, seeing that everyone seemed satiated for the time being. Taking a breath, she grabbed the glass of water she hid beneath the bar and downed half of it, her voice hoarse from shouting over the music. She’d have to pilfer Caitlin’s stash of tea.

Over the course of the evening, she’d caught glimpses of the others. Charlie was the most obvious, dancing away on the table. The girl rarely took a break, just a few seconds in the middle of songs. Sara had sent a few drinks her way courtesy of Ray, who moved through the crowd to check on speakers and lights all night. She hadn’t seen Mick since earlier in the evening - his job as the bouncer out front kept him busy, and there’d been no need to call him in. Not yet, at least. Zari had been back and forth a dozen times already, and Sara saw her slipping beneath the bar now.

“Hey, you ready to take a break?” Zari asked.

Sara nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll see you back here in a half hour. Get something to eat.” Zari slipped her ever-present tablet beneath the counter and rinsed her hands in the sink, turning to take an order. Sara left her glass there, leaving the bar and heading to the employee’s door.

“Hey, baby, you come here often?”

“Blonde is my favorite color.”

“You’d look better in my-”

Avoiding the catcalls, Sara tapped her card against the door and vanished, leaning against it for a moment and relishing in the quiet. She enjoyed the club scene, but it was taking a bit more time than she expected to acclimate herself to it again.

The employee lounge was empty, but the coffee was full. Sara poured herself a massive cup and used the restroom while her dinner was heating up in the microwave. It was the matter of just a few minutes to eat and drink everything, leaving her a good fifteen to kill before her break was over. Rinsing her cup, she decided a little exploration would be best.

She went back to the hallway and started up the stairs. There was a fork at the landing, so she took the left side, finding herself at a locked door. She knew from her studying of the blueprints that Snart had a massive apartment above the club just for him. She contemplated unlocking it, but it seemed like a job for another time. Going back and taking the right fork instead, she went through an unlocked door.

The music from the club surrounded her immediately as she found she was on the catwalk around the edge of the club. From up here, it looked much higher, and she could see every inch of the club, save what was directly behind the bar. She saw Charlie at the table, Zari seemed to be doing well at the bar, Ray was dancing poorly in a corner, out of sight of Charlie. Sara let her eyes drift, enjoying being up here, part of the crowd, but still distant, for a few minutes.

Against the wall by the door, she saw Mick, not really visible from her usual station at the bar, but from up here, she could see the door. The bouncer was leaning against the wall, looking at Snart, who was talking to him. Sara let her eyes linger a little on her new boss. He’d stopped by the bar twice to check in on her, as he did his other employees, but she’d been a bit distracted.

After Iris had mentioned him, Sara had done her research both on the bar and the owner. He was...complicated, to say the least.

Leonard Snart had fallen into crime at a young age, courtesy of his father, Lewis Snart, former cop turned criminal. Lewis had apparently started taking Leonard on jobs at a young age. The two of them worked together for several years, going after jewels and easy money, until Lewis had been arrested for a longer stint than usual. Leonard, who had been in and out of juvie six times by now, struck out on his own, gathering Mick to his side for most jobs, and few low-level criminals when necessary. He went six years without being caught once and coined the alter ego Captain Cold, a supervillian with a penchant for ice-themed weaponry and puns, and Sara had to admit she was mildly impressed. After going through arrests and trials, it appeared that Leonard had been the brains behind the heists for a long time, and he was far more successful than his father had ever been.

Which might have been the reason his father tried to have him killed seven years ago. He’d failed, obviously, and Leonard had been able to take a plea deal for self-defense. That, combined with his information on the Trickster, which had led to that psychopath’s arrest, had led to Leonard Snart becoming a free man.

He opened up Gaudia two years later, after paying for the building in cash, receiving a liquor license and renovating the building to comply perfectly with all building codes. The cops had been in and out of the club almost daily for five months after opening day, and found nothing out of place. It seemed that the criminal Leonard Snart had turned over a new leaf, and truly meant to become an upstanding businessman. Sure, he hired criminals, but it seemed like an afterthought.

But there was more to it.

Sara had gone through everything carefully. She’d found how Charlie had been abandoned by her family, growing up in the foster system and having more name changes than people had hairstyles as she tried to figure out who she was. Having seen the system from the inside, her identity theft seemed almost natural. Zari’s parents and brother had been killed by extremists on their way back from prayer, and Zari hacked into government systems to publish their names and those of their attackers. Ray had been engaged, until his fiance had been gunned down during a carjacking. Nothing more than wrong place, wrong time. He’d broken into the police department to retrieve her belongings, and get the names of the men who’d killed her. What he did with that information, Sara didn’t know. Mick had grown up with Leonard from the beginning, and she’d read about the deaths of his parents in a fire. Mick’s obsession with arson was explained, though it had gotten less destructive once he and Leonard started working together regularly.

There had been one more file she’d found. A medical history of Leonard Snart. Based on the thickness, and what she knew about his father, Sara already knew what was in it. She put it aside, and tried and failed not to let that information bias her opinion of Snart.

All these misfits, gathered together by Leonard Snart, the most enigmatic of them all. She didn’t know what to make of him, not really. Other than he was little inconveniently attractive.

She had seen the photos from when he was younger, but he was in his forties now. She hadn’t expected him to age so well. The dark hair was now shaded with gray, but that was the only discernible difference. The jawline was strong, the eyes bright and clever, his movements assured. She caught the play of muscles beneath the expensive suit, and the lean form drew many eyes from the crowd, including hers.

His attitude with her had been a little brisk, but Sara had seen how he’d relaxed a bit when she started to joke with him. The flirting had been all in good fun, as well as giving Sara the reputation of easy going flirt and making most people not think twice about her. But it hadn’t been all that difficult to smile at him.

Mick said something and Snart smiled, his eyes dancing even from this distance. Sara exhaled slowly, letting herself indulge for another few moments. He really was handsome as hell.

Until a smaller man approached Snart, taking quietly enough that Snart had to lean down to hear him. With a nod, Snart and the shorter man approached the employee’s door, and Sara caught Mick’s faint frown before she darted back to the stairwell.

She went as quickly as she could down the stairs, but maintained her stealth. She heard the heavy metal door shut and froze, half hidden in the shadows of the stairwell just out of sight of the door.

“Quiet week,” the other man was saying.

“It appeared so,” Snart said, his voice was cooler than it had been with Sara earlier. “Do you have my usual?”

“‘Course, Capt- Mr. Snart.”

A shuffle of plastic. Sara frowned in the dark, wishing she could see what was happening. Her gut said he was buying drugs but-

“This is some good shit, too. Fresh.”

Sara closed her eyes, exhaling silently and slowly. He was buying drugs. And she was stupid enough to have thought he was better than that, if the disappointment in her stomach was any indication. Idiot.

“And this?” Snart asked. A moment of silence.

“That’s not mine. It’s not-”

“I’m aware of that,” Snart interrupted. “Find out whose it is and there’s an extra bonus in there for you.” Another sound of shuffling, like something being passed between them. “Your usual cut.”

Any explanation that didn’t paint Snart as the villain in her story was seeming more and more unlikely. Sara chewed her lip in silence and listened to the rest.

“Thank you, Mr. Snart. Hey, was gonna mention, I’m loving your new bartender. She’s better than Mick was, and a hell of a lot hotter. And she’s got a great fuckin’-”

Snart’s voice was icy as he interrupted again. “She’s an employee. I’ll thank you to remember the usual rules.”

“Y-yes, Mr. Snart,” the man stuttered, obvious fear in his voice. “Thank you.”

“Good evening.”

“G’night.”

The man passed the stairwell below her, heading out the side door. Blond hair and squirrely-looking, but that was all Sara caught before he walked past. The door squeaked as it opened and closed, before shutting with a loud click.

There was a small sigh from below, then Snart walked past the stairs, one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He walked into the employee’s lounge and Sara heard the bathroom door close.

Quickly, Sara made it down the last few steps and slipped out back into the club. She returned to her position at the bar, letting Zari head back out and doing her best to put her smile back on her face as she fell into the rhythm of the work.

She did, however, see Snart return to the club via the employee’s door. She couldn’t see his eyes, and his hands looked steady, but Sara looked away as his gaze drifted over the bar, her focus on making the drink in front of her. She had forgotten herself for a moment, but she wasn’t going to forget again.

Leonard Snart may be good looking, but he was also her number one suspect.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin and Iris have their own suspicions.  
> Sara gets an offer she can't refuse.

“So you saw him actually taking the drugs?” Iris asked.

Caitlin ducked beneath Sara’s punch, coming up too closely for her to get a good swing in. She shoved her shoulder into Sara’s chest, knocking her back. The blonde grinned at her.

“Good,” Sara said, slightly out of breath. “And I heard it.”

“Maybe it wasn’t what you thought,” Caitlin said, blocking Sara’s punch to her side, her abs burning as she twisted out of reach. She glanced at Sara’s legs. “You do have a tendency to jump to the wrong conclusion.”

Sara’s brows snapped together. “I know what I heard.”

Caitlin shrugged, blocking Sara’s punch to her side, but missing the sweep of her foot. She hit the mat hard, her air knocked out of her lungs.

It took her a minute to catch her breath, and Sara immediately looked apologetic. “Cait-”

“It’s fine,” she wheezed, getting to her feet. “That’s what I get for getting overconfident.”

Iris stepped over, giving her a hand up. Caitlin took it gratefully, before stepping off the mat.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said, coming over.

Caitlin smiled, knowing that Sara was truly sorry. The PI sometimes lost her temper, and Caitlin knew she would never intentionally hurt her. “I’m fine.”

“Lance!” Ted, the owner of the gym called. “I need a minute.”

Sara waved at him, not looking away from Caitlin. “I’m really sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.” She nodded to Ted. “Go on.”

Iris and Caitlin grabbed the bags, heading back to the locker room.

“You sure you’re okay?” Iris asked.

Caitlin nodded. “I’m fine, honestly. She just winded me. I’m okay.”

It was after their actual class, and Iris and Caitlin had stayed to help Sara blow off some much needed steam. Iris was already caught up on Sara’s new job, having received Caitlin’s many text messages, and was as worried as she was. Though Sara hadn’t said anything to the contrary, it was clear that something about this case had her off kilter. And, considering what Sara did for a living, she needed to be on her game.

The girls washed up and changed before Sara made it into the locker room. She was frowning, but it vanished when she saw Caitlin looking.

“Everything okay?” Caitlin asked her cautiously.

“It’s fine,” Sara responded, grabbing her bag and heading into the shower.

Iris gave Caitlin a look and they both got up, leaning against the tiled wall of the shower.

“What’s going on, Sara?” Iris called through the steam.

“Nothing.”

“Is it Ted?” Iris asked. “Because I can just get Barry to shut this place down.”

A faint laugh had Caitlin relaxing slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So you heard Snart taking drugs?” Iris said, going back to what had riled Sara up in the first place. “Didn’t you say he was your suspect?”

“Yeah.”

“Sooo…” Iris trailed off, frowning at Caitlin, who merely shrugged. “He’s a criminal and your suspect. What’s the big deal?”

“Because he…” Sara cursed under her breath. “He was a criminal. He’s got this past, and he got over it, and opened up this club in spite of everything, and he’s kept his nose clean. He was helping people, but now he’s dealing? Getting people killed? I expected more from him.”

Caitlin cocked her head, as Sara explained, the hurt surprise in her voice so uncharacteristic for her painfully realistic friend. “Sara. Do you like him?”

“Don’t be stupid, Cait.”

But Iris was nodding, “No, that makes sense.”

“I barely know him!” Sara argued, turning off the water and grabbing a towel. “We’ve had one conversation.”

“Love at first sight,” Iris responded.

“Doesn’t exist,” Sara said, walking past them towards her things in the locker.

Iris opened her mouth, but Caitlin shook her head, ending the conversation. She followed Sara, sitting on the bench and smiling, trying to get Sara’s hackles down.

Love was a word Caitlin didn’t really use around Sara. When they’d met, Sara was involved in a tumultuous relationship with a woman named Nyssa. The two cared about one another and their passion ran deeply, so much so that Sara was talking about love and the future. Caitlin had never entirely warmed to the exotic beauty, but she’d made Sara happy and that was what mattered. But then Nyssa’s traditional father found out and made Nyssa choose between him and the family business, and Sara.

It had taken a long time for Sara to get over that heartbreak.

Sara hung up her towel, then met Caitlin’s eyes, still wary.

“You respect him. What he’s done,” Caitlin said gently. “And he disappointed you.”

Without the l-word, or hint at any affection beyond professional courtesy, Sara relaxed further. She nodded after a moment.

“I do. Did. It just doesn’t make sense for him to do all of this, to climb so far, only to take a risk on something this stupid,” Sara said, zipping up her bag. “He’s smarter than that.”

“Then,” Caitlin said slowly, gently. “Don’t you think you should give him the benefit of the doubt?” Sara opened her mouth to argue, but Caitlin continued steadily, not letting her get a word in. “If he is as smart as you say he is, then this doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t take this risk, not after everything. Could there be an alternate explanation?”

Sara shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Then you owe it to him and yourself to find out. You don’t want to accuse him of something he didn’t do. If he’s worked so hard to overcome his past, you should give him the opportunity to explain himself.” When Sara remained quiet, Caitlin added gently, “Like we did for you.”

Sara’s eyes darted up, and Caitlin arched a brow. Sara could beat her into the mat day after day, but there was a reason she listened when Caitlin spoke.

“I hate it when you do that,” Sara said, a faint smile appeared and letting Caitlin know they were still good.

“I know, which is why I only do it rarely.” Caitlin stood, grabbing her bag. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t leave now. Have a good night.”

Iris waved, but Sara stopped her. “Hey. You guessed I was going for your legs. That was good instinct. You should trust it.”

Caitlin smiled gently, and left. Hoping Iris didn’t rile up Sara again, Caitlin walked down to the bus stop and hopped on, her building several blocks away and the ride second nature to her.

She loved her job at S.T.A.R. Labs, even if it still carried a negative connotation after the failed particle accelerator experiment. The explosion had killed several of her coworkers, including her fiance, Ronnie. But that had been three years ago, and Caitlin was slowly trying to move on. She’d been on a couple of dates here and there, but most were intimidated by her job or her degrees, and she rarely was comfortable enough to call them for a second date. Dating always felt stilted, unlike work, which she could talk about until she passed out, and had, on several occasions.

Despite the comfort that settled over her shoulders as she pulled her lab coat on, Caitlin couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting to Sara’s dilemma. Even if she failed to admit it, it was obvious that Mr. Snart’s apparent return to crime had hit Sara harder than the PI had anticipated. And to have to see him every day at work...it must be difficult for Sara to work so closely to someone she liked and respected, without understanding why he was doing what he did.

“Hello, Snow.”

“Hey, Harry,” Caitlin greeting, turning in her seat to smile at her boss, Harrison Wells.

He looked down at her, leaning against the wall. “Thank god you’re here, I thought it was just going to be Ramon and I, and I would have killed myself had that been the case.” Harrison Wells was several years her senior, and several degrees her superior, but he rarely acted like it. His gray eyes constantly danced with sarcasm and humor, though she’d seen him in the midst of a few memorable brainstorms and sat in awe of him. She respected him, and was grateful for any time she could spend here, even if the rest of the city looked down their noses at them.

“Thank goodness I’m here to save you,” Caitlin retorted with a grin.

The corner of his mouth tilted up, “My hero.” He cleared his throat, looking over her shoulder after a moment. “Did you finish those diagnostics?”

“Of course,” Caitlin said, grabbing them out of her bag. “Explain to me again why we’re doing this? The accelerator failed the last time, you’re not going to try again, are you?”

“If I tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Harry-”

“Don’t you trust me, Snow?” Harrison asked.

Caitlin met his gaze, the challenge in his eyes as he stared at her. She might not understand entirely, but she knew the answer to his question was simple.

“Of course I do, Harry. Let’s go.”

* * *

Sara placed one of her unique old fashioneds in front of Snart as he sat at the bar before opening, going over a few papers and checking something on his phone. She looked over the bar, adjusting small items to suit her needs and finishing her final touches before they opened for the evening.

“Thank you,” Snart said, without looking at her.

“Sure, boss.”

He was quiet and Sara looked away from him to finish counting up her till. In the past two weeks, there hadn’t been much of a change. She came in for work every day but Tuesdays, and was enjoying it, despite her reservations about the owner. Snart hadn’t done anything to increase her suspicions. In fact, everything about his present seemed to be above board and disproving her original theories. Now, if only she had something to replace her theories with.

It had been easy, almost startlingly so, to fit in at Gaudia. Her schedule was great, the pay was decent, and the company was wonderful.

She loved Caitlin and Iris, so very much, but there was something about this particular group of people that made Sara feel like she belonged. All of them struggled and overcame, all of them felt like outcasts, all of them had their own issues and problems they were trying to work through. It felt closer to home than Sara had felt in a long, long time. She got along with everyone here, which was also a source of some guilt. Doing her best to rationalize it, she told herself she may have started working here under false pretenses, but she’d been honest with them. And she did enjoy it here.

“You don’t need to call me that.”

Sara dried her hands - cash was low-key disgusting - and glanced over at Snart. “Huh?”

“You can use my name.”

She leaned against the bartop with a wry grin. “It’s what Mick calls you. Besides, you don’t use mine.”

It was true. He had carefully avoided addressing her, and when he absolutely had to, it was always Ms. Lance. But she’d noticed.

Placing his phone face down again, he gave her his full attention. It was something she appreciated about him. Despite how obviously busy he was almost constantly, he always made it clear he was listening when you needed to be heard. Sara’s grin widened as she saw the faint lift at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t a smiling kind of man, and it gave her a weird sense of accomplishment to draw it out. Suspect or not.

“Mick calls me boss because of the old days. No one else here has to.”

“Zari does it.”

“Because she knows it annoys me.”

“Another reason for me to use it, then,” Sara grinned, folding her towel and grabbing her glass of water from beneath the bar. A small part of her, the cynical part that had grown and solidified with Nyssa, warned her about flirting so much with what was still her number one suspect. Sara ignored it, watching Snart try and fail to look annoyed with her.

“Wonderful. Remind me why we hired you again?”

“Because Mick was shit at tending bar.”

“Are you ever gonna let that go?” Mick called from the other side of the club, helping Ray replace a lightbulb.

“Not likely,” Sara retorted, causing Mick to flip her off. She returned the gesture and the big man hid a smile as he turned away.

Snart chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. He looked at the glass for a moment. “What do you put in this again?”

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

He smiled, turning back to his phone and Sara watched him for a short moment. He wasn’t a bad guy, right? There was some sort of angle. There had to be.

Her own phone buzzed and broke her contemplation. Ted’s name appeared on the screen and she answered it.

“Hey, Ted. What’s up?”

_ “Lance.” _ From just that one word, Sara prepared herself for bad news. Ted never called, and his tone wasn’t promising.  _ “Look, I hate to do this, but time’s up.” _

Sara went to the other end of the bar, dropping her voice even as her temper rose. “You said I had until the end of the month.”

_ “He came back with a better offer, what was I supposed to do? You know these guys are connected.” _

“You’re supposed to have a backbone and not screw over your regulars,” she hissed. “What the hell am I supposed to tell my class?”

_ “You can find a new place.” _

“You know that I-” Sara caught her voice rising and forced herself to remain calm. “You know it’s not that easy for me.”

_ “Sorry, Lance, but that’s not my problem.” _

Sara’s spine straightened at that, the casual dismissal of the years of rent she’d been paying alone to use the gym three times a week for years. The disregard he had for the self-defense classes she taught for free to help people stay safe. How much he just didn’t care.

“You screwed me over. I’m not going to forget it,” Sara said into the phone.

She heard Ted swallow through the earpiece.  _ “They own the gym as of Sunday. I’d suggest you grab your shit before then. Nothing I can do, Lance. I’m sor-” _

She hung up, cutting off his insincere apology. She glared at the phone as the call ended. “Motherfu-”

“Everything okay?”

She turned back, seeing Snart had put his phone back down, his forearms resting on the bar as he looked at her. His eyes were narrowed slightly as he looked her over.

“It’s fine. Nothing,” Sara said, a little sharper than she intended. “Do you want another drink or-”

“What happened?”

She rubbed her forehead, pissed that Ted had managed to upset her so much. She knew this had been coming, but she thought the weasel would actually let her have a chance of making it before pulling the rug out from beneath her. She dropped her hand, ready to spill out some sort of trifle to placate Snart into leaving her alone and-

“Sara.” The name sounded strange coming out of his mouth, as if he was almost uncomfortable using it.

She met Snart’s eyes, the blue narrowing further, as if he knew she was going to lie. She took in a breath and, to the shock of both, the truth came out.

“I rent space from Ted in his gym to teach a class, three times a week. He told me two weeks ago that someone had made him an offer to buy up the place, and that I had a month to come up with a shitton of cash if I wanted to keep him, and me, in business.” Ted had known she didn’t have it, but she’d been working long hours at the club and pulling small cases to make extra cash. There had been a chance. A small one, but she had been trying so hard. “He’s apparently done waiting. He just sold it and told me I’m shit out of luck.”

Snart’s face was carefully still. “He was extorting you.”

“What else is new in this town?” Sara muttered, refilling her glass.

“Can you rent another space?”

Sara sipped her water, trying to get a rein on her temper. “I teach self-defense to the kids in the area. There isn’t a lot of money in that. Less so, since I don’t charge them.” She put the glass down. “Gyms in the nicer areas won’t let me do that, and the shittier ones charge too much.” She pushed her straw around, not meeting his eyes. “Besides, it’s difficult for me to rent anything with my...history.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Sara looked up at that, slightly confused. “Zari gave me more hours to try and make up the difference, but it was a long shot.”

“If you had asked-”

Oh, she understood now. She interrupted, gentle but firm. “I don’t do handouts, boss. Thanks anyway.”

“I don’t give handouts,” he said. “I was talking about using the club.”

Sara frowned. “What?”

“Use the club for your class during off hours,” Snart said. When she continued to just frown, he elaborated, “We don’t use much of it before opening. You can store whatever you need in the back, clean up after yourself, and no rent necessary.”

Sara shook her head, “I can’t, I…the kids might make a mess.”

“Then you can clean it up.”

“I have my class three days a week.”

“I own the building every day of the week,” he countered.

“I won’t have time to go home and change before work.”

“There’s a full bathroom upstairs. You can use it on the days you teach.”

Sara scoffed, trying to think of an argument he couldn’t tear apart, and wondering why she wasn’t taking this generous and amazing offer. Then she remembered Marcus, and her belief that Snart had a hand in it. But he couldn’t have. How could anyone like Snart be involved in something as stupid as dealing drugs, when it endangered everyone around him? She didn’t want to believe it.

So, she wouldn’t.

She met his challenging gaze as he waited for her final attempt. “I don’t like to owe people.”

“Nobody does. And you won’t owe me anything.”

“Why are you bothering?”

He drained the rest of his drink, placing it too carefully back down on the table as he spoke, not looking right at her. “We grew up in this part of town. I taught my sister, Lisa, some ways to get out of trouble. Some of her friends weren’t as lucky. No one should ever be in that position.” He pushed away from the bar, taking his papers with him. “You can start tomorrow here. I’ll let Mick know and he’ll have a key for you before we close tonight. Don’t do anything stupid with it.”

He left, leaving Sara reeling behind the bar just moments before opening. Sara found her voice before he got too far.

“Thank you, Leonard.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Leonard fall into a routine.  
> Leonard takes the role of karma.  
> Sara's reminded of why she's here.

Leonard hung up his phone, ignoring the sounds of the shower running, and made another note in his computer. This was completely unnecessary, as his advisor had told him multiple times, but he wasn’t about to stop now.

It had been over a week since he’d told Ms. Lance - Sara - that she could hold her class in the club and he hadn’t seen much of her since then. He’d been busy with his investment adviser, Nate Heywood, and when she’d not been working, she’d been busy moving her supplies into the loading bay. Mick said it was just a pile of old mats that didn’t take up much room. He’d given Leonard a funny look when he explained what he’d done, but hadn’t said anything else about it.

Leonard didn’t need to hear it. He already had it running through his head almost constantly.

The shower stopped, and Leonard stood, ready to head down to the club, but his phone rang, Heywood’s name lighting up the display.

Leonard answered, half of his mind on the conversation. The other half kept running through his failed attempt to renege on his agreement with Sara.

The first day, he’d made sure to be here, to observe the class and find a way to cancel the arrangement. He should have thought before he spoke, but the unfairness with which Sara and her students was treated was unacceptable. He hated when people took advantage of others, and couldn’t help his knee-jerk reaction to make it right. With time, however, he realized that it had been foolish for him to offer the club. It was a complication he didn’t need, especially not now.

The the students had come in. They seemed a little uncomfortable as he sat at the bar, pretending to do work, but Sara had told them to ignore him and jumped into her lesson.

He snuck a few glances once they got more comfortable and forgot he was there. They ranged from young teens to mid thirties, mostly girls, but a few boys, too. Sara’s focus seemed to be on escaping grasps. A review for some of them, and Sara encouraged those who were familiar with the movements to help one another, correcting positioning and movements. She worked with the group as a whole as they paired up, taking turns being the attacker and defender.

“Swing your hands down as you push your hips back,” she told a pair, demonstrating what she meant. “Then as always, what’s next?”

“Run,” half the group chorused.

“Run. Scream your head off and run.” Sara adjusted a student’s hold and kept talking. “Predators go after people who are weak and won’t make a fuss. Make a hell of a fuss, give them a reason to rethink going after you.”

He watched them go through a few more hold and paces, the hour and half flying by as the students mastered the moves and helped the ones who were struggling. They packed up with some chatter, a few of them smiling at him when they remembered he was there. Sara instructed a couple to put the mats away, and another two mopped the floor clean and collected any trash. She was approaching Leonard when one of the older girls stopped her.

“Gerald showed up again when I was taking the trash out. I used some of your stuff, and sent him on his way.” She had a faint lisp that made her seem young, but Leonard saw the marks on her wrists and arms.

“Good,” Sara said quietly. “Remember, you have my number. If you see him again-”

“Thank you.”

Leonard kept his eyes on his phone, doing his best to keep his face impassive. Sara walked the class to the side door, letting them all out before returning to the bar. 

“Thanks again,” she said. “Are you sure that wasn’t an inconvenience?”

Here was his opportunity to shut it down. To maintain the distance and demeanor he had. Instead, he just kept seeing the faces of Sara’s students. The diligence with which they practiced the moves. The ease with which they executed them. The apathy as they mentioned using them effectively.

“Not at all,” he said instead.

He led Sara up to his apartment door. The key code in the handle was easy to use, and he’d given her a personal code to get in. It would track in his security system, marking when she went in and came out. He didn’t tell her that.

“Holy shit,” she muttered when she walked in.

Leonard agreed silently, the sunset lighting up his apartment in the best way. His living room was directly in front of them, and she took a step towards the couch before remembering her sweaty leggings and t-shirt.

“Living room,” he said unnecessarily. “That way,” he gestured to his left, “is my office and guest bathroom.” He turned right, leading her past the high-tech kitchen and dining room. He didn’t entertain often, but appearances had to be maintained. The last door was his bedroom. Holding it open, he let her go first. Her eyes immediately darted to the large bed that dominated most of the room, but she looked towards the half open bathroom door right afterwards.

He showed her how to use the large walk in shower, where the towels were and where to hang it up when she was done.

“I brought my own towel,” she said. “And I’ll just keep my stuff in the lounge when I go down.”

“If you need anything else, I’ll be in the office. You can leave whenever, the door will lock automatically behind you.”

“Thank you again for this,” Sara said, playing with the strap of her bag. “You didn’t need to, and I appreciate it.”

“It’s just a shower.”

“You know what I mean.”

Leonard nodded, remembering the young girl who had stopped Sara. “Do you give every student your number?”

She lifted one shoulder. “Some of them are pretty transitory, jumping from place to place. This way, I can check in on them.”

“And have any of them called you for help before?”

Sara nodded again, a little slower. “A few times.”

Leonard was forced to once again reconsider his idea of Sara Lance. The flowers had given him an impression the first day, her attitude had countered it. Now, in her ponytail and workout clothes, he saw more scars, more lean muscle than he’d expected. Her movements in the class made it clear she knew what she was doing, and her instructions were real world information. If students had called her, and she had gone to deal with it…

“If you ever need a hand, Mick would be more than willing to assist.”

She smiled, some of the shadows that had gathered around her face fading away. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him as he left.

After her shower, changed and ready for work, and with another thank you, they went to work. It had been easy to add Sara and her classes into his routine, even if he’d found a bottle of shampoo that didn’t belong to him in the corner of his shower.

He had broken one of his rules, and he knew it was going to catch up with him.

_ “Are you serious about this?” _ Heywood was asking.

“I’m always serious.” Leonard opened up the computer. “Make the offer.”

Heywood said something under his breath, but agreed, hanging up after a quick goodbye.

“Hey.”

Turning, he looked at the door. Gone was the hardened teacher, and the bartender stood in her place. The black tights and boots were fine, as was the black sweater, but the flowered mini skirt was, once again, not in keeping with the tone of the club. He was convinced she’d gone out and bought more flowered clothes after she saw it annoyed him.

Sara stood in the entrance, her eyes casting over the room in appreciation. Though he enjoyed the view from the living room most, the office was his favorite place to be. Bookshelves lined half open walls, surrounding the open archway. His desk was in the middle of the room, with a view of the city on his right. He loved the smell of the classics he’d collected, and though a lot of them were business related, there were a fair number of his favorites interspersed within. An armchair and small side table were the only other pieces of furniture, situated right next to the window to enjoy the view. She’d stopped in a couple time in the past week, to let him know she was leaving, but he found her gaze lingering on the books and knew she didn’t come in just to talk to him.

“Hello.”

“So, out of curiosity, when you’re not lurking around in the club,” she said, leaning against the frame, “what do you do?”

He sat back in his chair, “Keeping this place in business is a full time job.”

“Yeah, but you’re always working, so you have time for three more full time jobs.”

He nearly smiled. “I have a few other investments I keep track of.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Currently, I’ve been buying up real estate.” He gestured to the papers and blueprints on his desk. She edged in, and when he didn’t say anything to stop her, reached out to look over the papers. Her brows drew together as she compared the pages.

“You’re buying gyms?” she asked, looking at him. “Why?”

Leonard kept his face calm. “Call it karma.”

She stared at him, her eyes widening when it clicked. “You’re outbidding Ted.”

Leonard merely lifted a brow.

She trying to shake her head, but the smile on her face grew wider with every second. “That is so petty. I didn’t expect you to be petty.”

“What’s the point in being rich if I can’t be vindictive every once in a while?”

She laughed, and Leonard’s own smile escaped.  _ Dangerous _ , his head whispered, but he ignored it as Sara rubbed her face and laughter away.

“What the hell are you going to do with five gyms?”

“Six, as of a minute ago. Some I’ll sell in a few months. But I’m thinking of keeping a couple. Getting a few people on staff to run them for no membership fees. Try to make your kinds of classes more available to people.” It had been a continuous thought in his mind since he’d seen Sara’s class. Doing something good for his community might help balance out some of his other deeds. And even if they didn’t, it helped him sleep a little better at night.

Sara looked incredulously at him. “You...aren’t what I expected, Leonard Snart.”

“The feeling is mutual, Sara Lance.”

Her smile turned soft, her eyes on him and not on the papers in her hand. Leonard felt his expression mirroring hers, and a dangerous thought entered his head before he could silence it. His phone rang again, and though there was no name, he recognized the number.

All of his reservations came hurtling back and Leonard picked up the phone, not answering yet. He didn’t look at Sara as he said coolly, “Zari said she’s going to be a little late, so have Ray do the normal checks on security before we open.”

Sara frowned, but Leonard ignored it, clearly waiting to answer the phone until she left. “I should get down there, then,” she said quietly.

He nodded, waiting for her to shut the door behind her, and suppressing the faint burn of guilt. It was his own fault to begin with. He never should have allowed Sara to have her class here.

Bringing the phone to his ear, he stared straight ahead, his voice losing any warmth. “Hello, Adams.”

* * *

Sara leaned over, trying to hear the brunette’s order to the third time. The idiot kept looking down, making it impossible for Sara to even read her lips to take a guess.

“You’ve gotta speak up!” Sara shouted, losing her temper.

The girl finally did, grabbing her drink and leaving Sara without a tip, unsurprisingly. Sara gritted her teeth, chugging half of her water and refusing to let her eyes wander up to the catwalk.

After her less than polite dismissal this afternoon, she hadn’t been inclined to be all that pleasant to anyone, least of all her ass of a boss. And it wasn’t just today that was the issue.

She’d finally believed that he really didn’t have anything to do with the drugs. That she’d misinterpreted the whole exchange her first night here, and he had no part in it. It helped that she hadn’t seen him speaking with the dealer since then, or the dealer himself. Snart had been straightforward with her, and despite his statements to the otherwise, she knew she owed him big for allowing her to have her classes here.

But, her dismissal today was all sorts of suspicious.

She’d already texted Barry and asked if he knew anyone connected to the case with the last name of Adams. She didn’t expect an answer anytime soon, but at least the message was out there.

Leonard hadn’t come to the bar like he normally did, and she told herself it didn’t bother her. But a half hour later, she poured one of her special old fashioneds down the drain, and it made her frown.

Said frown had yet to leave her face, and her tips reflected it.

When Zari came to relieve her for her break, she was determined to get her head on straight. She ate the leftovers Caitlin had made the night before, then sipped a cup of coffee slowly, trying to let go of her irritation.

“Hey.”

She looked up, seeing Mick in the doorway.

“Hey,” she said. She jerked her chin to the coffee pot. “I just made that. Should be done.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed a cup she knew was Ray’s, then filled his mug to the brim and slouched down on the couch. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah? And how’s the new look working out for you?”

Sara cut her eyes at him.

“Yeah, that look,” Mick rumbled, snorting and closing his eyes.

Ignoring him, she tried to chug her coffee, but it was still scalding hot and she needed the caffeine to make it through the night.

“Boss told me about your class.” Mick’s eyes were still closed. “Good thing you’re doing.”

“Thanks,” she said shortly, pushing through the pain and finishing half of the cup.

“You ever had to use that kind of shit yourself?”

Sara lowered the mug, glancing at Mick again. “Couple times.”

“That sucks.”

“Suck more if I didn’t know how to do it.”

“True. How’d you end up teaching a class?”

His eyes were still closed, but Sara felt oddly judged by him. She turned in her chair to watch his face, though it gave no indication of his thoughts.

“I was coming home one night and saw a guy harassing a girl. Turns out it was her ex, and he’d followed her out. I scared him off, and she asked me to teach her a couple things.” She remembered Kendra’s smile when she’d reluctantly agreed. “I met her at her place the next day, and found out she’d invited a couple of her friends, who wanted to know how to do protect themselves. I was already going to Ted’s gym, so I eventually just booked enough space for everyone who wanted to come. Been doing it for a couple years now.”

“I know boss already said it, but if you ever need a hand, I’m always up for a fight.” He chuckled to himself, a joke only he was privy to, and added, “Catch him on a bad night and Snart’ll be there, too.”

“Right,” Sara muttered, turning back to her coffee.

When Mick was quiet for a minute, she assumed he fell asleep, but a quick glance showed her that he was very awake, and staring at her.

“Boss does a lot of shit I don’t agree with. But he does everything for a reason, and it’s usually a damn good one. You don’t have to like him, I don’t half the time, but you gotta know that.”

“Why?” she asked, the anger shaded with curiosity.

Mick drained the coffee that was still too hot for Sara, getting to his feet and leaving his mug on the counter. “‘Cause people like us, we gotta look out for one another. No one else is gonna do it.” With a final nod, Mick left the room, leaving Sara staring after him.

She scoffed after a minute, shaking her head at the strangeness of criminals. Finishing her coffee, she cleaned her mug and, after a minute, Mick’s, too.

Stepping into the bathroom, she checked her makeup and fixed her hair, all the while eyeing her expression. The frown was gone, and when she tried a smile, it didn’t feel quite so off. Rolling her neck a little, she smoothed her skirt down and pushed open the heavy door to head back to the bar.

Or she would have, had a blood-curdling scream not echoed from the women’s bathroom.

Sara didn’t hesitate, she bolted to the bathroom, shoving past patrons, most of whom hadn’t realized what had happened. Charlie was still dancing at the table, but Sara saw Mick approaching from near the bar, and Zari’s face was drawn into a concerned frown.

Shoving the bathroom door open, Sara saw the brunette from earlier crouched over a small Asian girl, who was lying on the ground, her eyes open, but her chest was eerily still.

“What happened?” Sara asked.

The brunette babbled for a moment, nothing coherent coming through, and Sara stomped forward.

“What happened?” Sara asked again, grabbing the brunette’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.

“She-she took something, I don’t know!”

Next to the girl, Sara saw several dimebags, all with the same bisected C. Two were full, but three were empty. “Did you take one?” Sara asked, kneeling next to the girl and trying to find a pulse.

She couldn’t find one.

“No, I didn’t, I just- I was about to, but then she collapsed and-”

“Call 911,” Sara ordered. The brunette tried to say something else, but Sara cut her off. “Call 911, now!”

Getting into position, Sara began compressions, trying to keep the blood flowing to her brain, but she was getting steadily cooler beneath her. Still, Sara tried.

She didn’t know how long she was at it, but she felt a hand at her shoulder some time later.

“Sara,” Leonard said gently, shaking her a little. “You can stop.”

When she looked up, Leonard was standing behind her, and emergency services were in the room, taking her place. She stumbled as she got up, her legs asleep and her arms too weak to support her. Leonard helped her up, steadying her with a hand under her elbow when she winced as the blood came flowing back.

Sara swallowed, her throat dry from numbering the counts between breaths, and her shoulders and arms aching from the repetitive movements. She watched as one of the EMTs shook her head, looking at her watch and calling time of death.

Her breath blew out slowly, and she tried to stem the feeling of guilt that she hadn’t gotten there quickly enough. That she hadn’t found the dealer quickly enough. That she’d been too distracted to discover what she needed, and this girl paid the price. She stared at the girl for a long moment, until Leonard tugged on her arm gently.

“Come on,” he said. “The cops are here.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cops come.  
> Sara looks for answers.

Another cup of coffee landed in front of Leonard, and he looked up at Zari to thank her. Her eyes weren’t on him, however, but going between the cops at the door and Sara on the couch.

Leonard followed the gaze and with some restraint, managed not to rub his temples.

The EMT’s hadn’t been able to save that girl, and the cops had been right on their heels. A small, sinister part of him wished they hadn’t called 911 at all, knowing it would bring the cops down on him, but he buried it, knowing they’d all done the best they could.

In the confusion between the discovery of the girl and the arrival of the cops, most of the crowd had left, Gaudia shutting down their Wednesday night early. His employees, ranging from nervous to pissed, stayed in place once the door were shut, waiting for the inevitable questioning and all the comments that came with it.

Leonard had stood in the door of the bathroom, Mick right behind him, watching Sara perform compressions long after they all knew it was pointless. She seemed completely unaware that he was there, her entire focus on the body beneath her.

Looking between them, Leonard realized they could have been the same age.

It wasn’t until emergency services had arrived and Sara had shown no sign of stopping, that he stepped in, and tugged her away from the body. She had been shaking, and he didn’t drop the hand on her elbow until they made their way back to the employee’s lounge, where the cops were waiting for them. Sara had taken a seat on the couch, her mouth a thin line and her eyes staring into the ground and hadn’t said a word since.

That had been three hours ago.

One by one, his employees had been called out and questioned by the police, who took detailed pictures of everything in the club, save what was behind his locked door. As his private residence within his place of business, the search laws were shaky, but he knew enough to know that if they didn’t have a warrant, he didn’t have to let them upstairs.

However, he did show them security footage from the evening, where they all saw the girl walking into the bathroom alone, followed by the brunette they’d questioned for an hour before releasing, before Sara walked in. He had opened the door moments after and stayed there, and though the cameras couldn’t see everything inside the bathroom, the reflection off the mirrors showed Sara performing compressions. No one else had been close to the bathroom and his employees were all innocent.

Of course, that meant next to nothing.

Mick came back in from his inquisition, muttering under his breath. Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the coffee pot, talking quietly to him. Eventually, he relaxed enough that Charlie let go of him, but kept close, the two of them whispering back and forth what Leonard was sure were unsavory jokes about cops.

Trusting Charlie to keep Mick occupied, knowing Zari would stay calm if it killed her, and knowing that Ray was completely innocent and couldn’t say anything to get himself into trouble unless he actively tried - which wasn’t completely out of character for him - Leonard kept his eyes on Sara, who was the only person who had yet to be questioned. He had been taken back first, invited to sit at the bar as if he didn’t own it, and had to talk to Officer Doyle, a complete waste of brain cells if he’d ever seen one.

After humoring the officer for a good thirty minutes, Leonard had gone back to the lounge to sit with the others, making the coffee that kept them going. But his patience was waning, and it nearly snapped when Doyle came back. He took off his police hat, tossing it carelessly onto the table that Leonard was seated at and nearly knocking over his mug of coffee. 

“Alright, all of you but Lance can go. Don’t leave town, we may have more questions,” Doyle announced, crossing his arms. “Gaudia is shut down until we finish our investigation.”

“If I wasn’t sure the city didn’t give a damn about this part of town,” Charlie said, getting to her feet, “I’d know now, considering they put an idiot like you in charge of the case.”

“You want to be arrested for harassing an officer?” Doyle retorted.

Charlie grinned viciously, her eyes glimmering, but Zari stepped between them. “No, it’s just late and we’re all tired. Thank you, Officer.”

Doyle narrowed his eyes at Zari, but nodded once. She pulled Charlie out, followed by Ray and Mick, who glanced back at Leonard. Leonard nodded once, remaining in his seat. Mick shut the door behind him, leaving Leonard and Sara with Officer Doyle.

Doyle was one of those goons who made good cops look bad. He was constantly hanging around, looking for a code violation or minor infraction to bust Leonard on. He was the worst example of police, and he wasn’t about to leave any of his staff alone with him.

“I don’t need you to stay,” Doyle said to Leonard. “Me and Lance are old friends, right?”

Sara moved for the first time in a few hours, lifting her eyes to meet Doyle’s. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Right,” she said lowly.

Leonard was determined not to leave, now.

“Appreciate the thought, but as this is my club, Lance is my employee, and this is also technically my house, I’m not going anywhere.” Leonard sipped his coffee, completely unrepentant as Doyle glared at him.

“You’d better tread carefully, Snart.” Doyle remained standing, looking down at Leonard. “This is the second body we’ve found connected with your club. And the second to die of an OD of the same new drug. We found a packet of it on both bodies. One might say it’s a pattern.”

“Drugs and clubs usually go hand in hand,” Leonard said, keeping his tone level. “I do my best to keep it out, but it happens. I seem to remember Verdant in Star City having a rash of similar deaths - eight over the course of a month.”

“You know your numbers,” Doyle said.

“One of you has to,” Sara muttered.

Officer Doyle cut his eyes at Sara. “You’ve got something to say? You aren’t out of the woods either, Lance. You’ve been indicted in several attacks, and now I find you with a body?”

Sara stood, facing Doyle despite their six inch difference. “I tried to save her.”

“That makes one in - how many? Seven?” Doyle countered.

“Those men were attacking people. Girls. Kids.”

“You killed two of them!” Doyle shouted, his fists clenching. “One lost a hand and the others-”

“If you’d helped those girls when they asked you,” Sara interrupted, “I wouldn’t have had to step in and do your fucking job.”

“Killing people isn’t my job, Lance. That’s the difference between us. I’m a cop, and you’re a glorified murderer.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. Leonard kept his mouth shut, watching the exchange. He couldn’t get involved, he was on thin ice with with cops as it was, and they were just looking for a reason to shut him down permanently. Besides, Sara could handle herself.

“Figures you’d be working here, now,” Doyle said, gesturing around the room. “Snart’s a criminal, too. Guess you all find one another, right?”

Leonard arched a brow, unfazed. He’d heard far worse than that. But Sara’s jaw jumped, and he saw a flush start in her cheeks.

“You know,” Doyle continued. “Your dad used to think you’d be worth something. Too bad you disappointed him. Repeatedly. What a disgrace to the Lance name you are.”

He waited for Sara’s sharp tongue to make an appearance. For her to cut him down like she had before, like she’d done to him, and laugh in his face.

Instead, her eyes lowered and she remained silent. She didn’t  _ believe… _ ?

“It’s good thing he’s dead, because you would have killed him yourself by now, slumming with criminals and-”

“Enough.”

Doyle choked, nearly swallowing his own tongue as Leonard interrupted him, getting to his feet and stepping between Doyle and Sara. It was a stupid, stupid move, but he was already committed to making it.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, Captain Cold-”

“That would be Mr. Snart to you,” Leonard interrupted again. “And I understand perfectly that you’re harassing my staff.”

“There’s been a murder-”

“Which all of my staff have alibis for, and you’ve corroborated. You aren’t asking questions, so I have to assume your attack on Ms. Lance is one of a personal nature, which has no place on the police force.” Leonard refused to let Doyle look away, unblinking, his voice dropping in temperature. “Next time the department would like to interview my employees, they can make an official arrest, or I’ll be filing a complaint with your supervisor.”

They didn’t have enough to arrest any of them on, Leonard was certain.

Doyle started to scoff, and Leonard took a step forward, noting with pleasure that Doyle was just a bit shorter than him. He raised his chin, looking down his nose at Doyle with a cold glare. “If not, I’m they’ll be very interested to hear about the payments you’ve been getting courtesy of the Royal Flush Gang.”

All the color went out of his face and he took two steps back from Leonard. “How did you - I mean, I’m not!”

Leonard’s smile was fully without humor. “Of course you aren’t. Then I guess an investigation won’t reveal anything.”

Doyle glared at him, but his mouth remained shut. Grabbing his hat, he stomped his way towards the door.

“Officer Doyle,” Leonard called after him, turning slightly.

Doyle would have spat on the ground, if he had the nerve.

“You owe Ms. Lance an apology.” He gestured to Sara, but didn’t tear his eyes away from the cop.

A dozen expressions crossed Doyle’s face, until he spat out, “My apologies, Ms. Lance,” without looking at her. He turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

Leonard stared at the door for a long moment, confirming he had control over his temper, before he turned to look at Sara.

She was staring at him, her expression skeptical at best. The confusion started to slip in and she asked, “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t take kindly to people harassing my staff.”

“They want to shut you down. You’ve given them an excuse.”

“They’ve been trying for years,” Leonard said, grabbing his mug and dumping out what was left. “They’ll continue to fail. Doyle’s too much of a coward to push it now. My concern is how long the crime scene is going to take. They’ve dragged it out for weeks before.”

In his head, he could see the decline in numbers and profits, and what he would have to do to maintain the club until they reopened. He rubbed his temples now, giving into the headache he’d had for hours, ignoring Sara’s presence as he tried to figure out how to make this work.

“I know someone who might help,” Sara said quietly.

He turned, leaning on the sink and crossing his arms.

“A CSI. He’s a friend. I’ll ask him to speed it up. They won’t be able to keep it closed for long. Barry’s famous for working through scenes quickly.” She was almost babbling and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was nervous or tired.

“How do you know him?” he asked.

“He’s engaged to my friend,” she said, grabbing her bag from next to the couch and fiddling with the strap. “But I met him through my dad, first.”

Leonard remained quiet, and Sara kept talking, not looking at him.

“He was a detective in Star City. A good one. The only reason he wasn’t commissioner was because he hated paperwork. He died a few years ago. He never wanted me to be a cop, but when I started to get into trouble he was...disappointed.” She cleared her throat and looked up at him. “I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

Leonard shrugged. “It’s nothing new. And if it hadn’t been you, it would be Mick or Charlie. I’m more concerned about this drug.” He had about a dozen phone calls to make and more footage to review. Which meant he wouldn’t be getting to sleep tonight - today - what time was it? He saw his watch inching along to five a.m. and suppressed a sigh.

“I’ll text Barry and get him on the case,” Sara said, noticing his movement and headed toward the door. “He’ll have it done in less than twelve hours.”

“I appreciate it.”

Still, she lingered, confusion on her face. “Thank you, for looking out for me. All of us. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

He nodded, still not entirely certain it had been the right thing to do. But he felt responsible for his staff, and even when it wasn’t in his best interests, he couldn’t ignore them. That was part of the reason his staff was so small - fewer opportunities to make these kinds of mistakes. But he’d made two very big ones for Sara Lance in less than a month. He also found that he didn't regret it. Not yet, at least.

“Everyone has something in their past they’d rather not,” he said, cleaning out his mug to avoid looking at her. “Own it. Don’t let them use it against you.”

“Thank you,” she repeated.

“Enjoy your day off,” he said as she went towards the door. He followed, to lock up behind her.

“You too.” She put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently before slipping out into the sunrise. Leonard stood in the door and watched until she vanished around the corner, then he shut the heavy metal door and locked it. He confirmed that the rest of the club was locked down and empty, then trudged up the stairs to his apartment, and slumped on the couch. He loosened his tie, and scrolled through his contacts.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

“But the simulation works,” Cisco said on Friday, his lunch spread out over the table.

“That means next to nothing, Ramon,” Harry said, staring at the computer. “We still don’t have any way of creating the speed used.” He got to his feet and flipped a marker over his fingers, obviously frustrated.

Caitlin sat back where she was, her foot swinging anxiously. They’d been discussing this since early this morning. “It’s just theoretical, Harry,” she said. “We know why it didn’t work the first time. Isn’t that enough?”

She hated talk of the accelerator. She hated what it had ruined in her life, in Harry’s life, in Cisco’s. She hated what it had done to S.T.A.R. Labs’ reputation. And she hated that Harry still obsessed over it, years later.

He didn’t move for a second, then he turned and smiled faintly. “You’re right, Snow. It’s enough.” He looked at Cisco, the marker still twisting over his hand. “How’s it coming with that software?”

“Oh,” Cisco spun in his chair, chewing on the end of his pen. “You mean SILVER?”

Caitlin frowned at him and Harry stared blankly.

“The ‘Strategic Identification and Location of Villains, Ecoterrorists, and Rascals.’”

“Not your best,” Caitlin murmured.

“It’s a work in progress,” Cisco said immediately. “And it’s almost good to go. Except, it really only functions when someone has a record. Also, there’s that whole pesky Patriot Act thing which makes all of this mildly illegal.”

Harry nodded, frowning, but Caitlin was still pensieve. “CCPD needs all the help it can get, and we need all the good press we can get.”

“Yeah, ‘cause everyone loves the people who side with the cops,” Cisco muttered.

Harry made a move like he was about to agree with Cisco, but caught himself at the last minute. “It’s a useful piece of technology. And it doesn’t rely on the police systems to run, which we all know are subpar at best. We have to improve our image, one step at a time. Keep working on that name, though.” He looked at Caitlin, “Snow, you and I-”

He trailed off, looking behind her.

Caitlin spun in her chair to look behind at who was standing in the door. “Sara? Oh my god...”

Her roommate smiled, but it was tight and forced. But that wasn’t what caught Caitlin’s eye.

Sara was beaten.

Her left eye was almost swollen shut, her lip cut and bleeding steadily. She held her arm away from her side strangely and there was a slice in her sweater right across her ribs that looked like it was from a knife. Her knuckles were split and bruised, every last one, and there were various bruises on her arms and face and, Caitlin was certain, more where she couldn’t see just yet.

“Sorry to bother you,” Sara said, her voice scratchy. “Hey, Dr. Wells. Cisco.”

Harrison took a step nearer, “What happened to you?”

“Fight,” Sara said weakly, trying to smile and only managing to split her lip open wider. She winced and Caitlin finally reacted, getting to her feet and taking Sara’s arm gently.

“Excuse us,” Caitlin said to Harrison and Cisco, who nodded. Harry watched her for a long moment, sharing a look that said if she needed anything he’d be there. Caitlin gave him a tight smile and lead Sara to her office.

“What the hell happened?”

The medical equipment hadn’t been used in some time, but she kept the place clean and tidy nonetheless. She shut the glass doors behind her. Harry and Cisco could see them, but not hear them.

“I always forget how cute Wells is,” Sara said, trying to smile again.

“What happened?”

Sara turned her back to the others, not meeting Caitlin’s eyes.

“Sara, as your doctor and your friend, you have to tell me.” She pulled out instruments, checking Sara’s eyes for a signs of a concussion.

“Someone died at Gaudia Wednesday night,” Sara said. She clenched and released her fists. “She overdosed on that new drug. I tried to...but they called it at the club.”

“I’m so sorry,” Caitlin said, checking her shoulder. There was no sign of a concussion, which seemed about right, considering how thick headed Sara could be. It looked like a sprain in her shoulder. Minor, though. “But what about all this?”

She had Sara lift up her shirt. Definitely a knife wound. Shallow, and though it needed to be cleaned, it probably was fine without stitches.

“I needed answers,” Sara said, her words starting to lisp together. She must be exhausted. “I checked the usual haunts for dealers and tried to get information. Most of them didn’t want to cooperate.”

“Sara…” Caitlin said, concern and worry making her quieter. “You could have been really hurt.”

She shrugged, then winced. “I had to do something. The cops have no idea. Even if they did, they aren’t moving quickly enough to stop it. Gaudia was shut down as they work the crime scene, but Doyle’s running it and…” She sighed, rubbing her eyes and leaving a red smear in place of eyeshadow. “Leonard’s trying, but the cops don’t care. They just want to shut him down, and he can’t stop this, but I owe him, you know?”

Caitlin cleaned her off, trying to make sense of her friend’s babbling. “Because of the classes?” She and Iris hadn’t been able to make it to one at Gaudia yet, but they’d been looking forward to it. Iris had a plan to expose Ted’s extortion, but it appeared he’d left town, unable to find a place he liked here. Caitlin figured it was good riddance.

“Doyle was giving me a hard time, and even though it got him into trouble, Leonard stepped in. He shouldn’t have, but he did, and he might lose the club if I can’t figure this out.”

Knowing Sara’s past with Doyle, Caitlin said a silent thank you to Leonard Snart as she finish cleaning Sara’s cuts and cruises, bandaging the worst of them.

“You sprained your shoulder, and you need to sleep,” Caitlin said. “I’ll call an Uber and we’ll go home.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got work.”

“Call out,” Caitlin said firmly.

Sara squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, Caitlin was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

“Sara-”

“I have to do something.”

Taking her shoulder, Caitlin ducked her head to catch Sara’s eyes. “You are doing something. A lot more than you should, buy you need to rest. You need to keep yourself safe. They’ll understand.”

Sara scoffed quietly, but didn’t argue, her hand going into her pocket as she considered. Caitlin waited in silence, until Sara finally nodded, pulling out her phone.

“I’ll stay home.”

Caitlin said, “Good,” then called a car. She stepped out of her office and into the main cortex of the lab, coming over to Harry.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“No, but it will be. I’m going to leave a little early and take her home. I’m sorry. If you email me, I’ll finish the-”

“Don’t worry about us, Snow. You do what you need to do.” He lifted his hand like he was going to touch her shoulder, then dropped it. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thanks, Harry. It’ll be fine. Just...roommate stuff,” she finished lamely.

“And that’s why I live alone,” he said, humoring her bad attempt at lightening the mood.

“You live alone because you can’t stand people.”

“Only some people. Others aren’t so bad.”

“I knew you loved Cisco,” she said, half focusing on the banter as she grabbed her bag and coat. She looked up as Sara joined them, her mind already on how she was going to keep her roommate quiet and still, and missed Harry’s muttered comment as she left.

“Not what I meant.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaudia reopens.  
> Sara's makeup skills are on point.  
> Leonard proves his past isn't so far away.  
> They plan a party.

The club was only closed for Thursday night, much to Leonard’s relief. Sara’s CSI contact was true to his word and had gotten everything cleaned up and recorded in record time, even if it had been amid mindless chatter and an excessively exuberant smile. Barry Allen seemed to exist purely on optimism, and though it rankled Leonard, he powered through the investigation. Leonard almost wished he could have seen the look on Doyle’s face when he was told that Gaudia was reopened.

However, he knew that his luck with Doyle and the rest of the CCPD was running out. They were going to be looking for any reason to shut him down, and he didn’t want to give them an inch. So it was with more than a little irritation he read Sara’s text a few hours before opening on Friday.

Finding Zari on the floor, he spoke a little harsher than he meant to. “You’ll need to cover the bar. Sara called out sick.”

Zari merely shrugged, unsurprised. “I kind of figured she would.”

Leonard frowned, waiting.

“Come on, boss. Show a little heart. She tried to save that girl and she died anyway. That’s gotta be hard. Then she’s read the riot act by Doyle, living proof that sometimes it’s neither brain nor brawn, and we all know he’s a piece of work. You said she seemed shaken when she left,” Zari reminded him. “She lost her gym a few weeks ago. Give her a break. She’s had a shit month.”

When it was put like that, Leonard could see the point. Zari noticed his acceptance, because she smiled at him. “I’ll have Ray cover my break. He’ll mess up all the drinks, but he’s cute enough people might tip anyway.”

Leonard snorted quietly and finished his rounds a little lighter. A few minutes before opening, he sat at the bar, reviewing the orders for next week, and Zari placed a drink at his elbow, comfortable behind the bar, but without Sara’s particular brand of flair. Still, Leonard appreciated the help and nodded at her as he sipped his drink-

And nearly spit it out.

Zari had turned away, luckily, and missed his reaction. He quickly regained control and choked it down, staring at the glass.

It was just an old fashioned. Why in the world…?

He had gotten a little too used to Sara’s unique old fashioneds, apparently. His former usual was suddenly a disappointment.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his messages. His phone calls over the past few days had been fruitless. No one was talking. Not yet, at least. He’d gotten a rumor that there was some dissension among the dealers, but no one was saying why, other than a hazard to the job. He was grateful for it, and hoped that would bring some of the unattached ones forward, looking for his help and protection.

Unfortunately, the only person he had been able to get in touch with was Adams, who was steadily denying everything, though they both knew better. Leonard didn’t believe him for a second, but he couldn’t push him just yet. Not until Adams gave him what he needed. He was pushing for a face to face, and though Leonard didn’t want to oblige him, he knew he was going to have to, and soon. Stifling his annoyance and making a mental note to put out a few more feelers, he scrolled back up.

Sara’s name was a few from the top with the most recent texts. The ones before calling out were updates of when her classes were, or that she was coming into the building and giving him a head’s up. He usually didn’t respond, other than an occasional acknowledgment when necessary. He wasn’t a texting kind of person.

He considered and reconsidered, then sent her a short message.

**You’ll be missed. Feel better.**

It wasn’t until midway through the evening, when he’d turned down another old fashioned from Zari and watched Ray fumble his way through the simplest of orders, that he made his way up to the catwalk and saw an answering message.

**Thanks, boss. Sorry to disappoint.**

His response was quick, and maybe if he’d been down there among the others he would have rethought it. As it was, he was alone up here, so he sent back:  **You don’t. Get some rest. Goodnight.**

**Goodnight, Leonard.**

He put his phone away long after he’d received and read the message, and remained on the catwalk for the rest of the night.

He was in trouble.

* * *

Sara fumbled through the door, her bad shoulder complaining as she forgot and used it to push open the side door. With a muffled curse, she turned, using her good arm and checking the hallway. No one as far as she could see.

Hurrying to the employee lounge, she checked and sighed in relief when that too was empty. Her bruises were turning all sorts of colors and though she had a decent amount of makeup, she needed the high-caliber kind of cover up to deal with her eye and swollen lip. The black shirt under her flowered shawl hid the bandage she still had around her middle and the icy-hot patch on her shoulder. The jeans covered the other various bruising on her knees and shins, and her comfortable boots helped hold the ankle brace in place. Her knuckles were bruised and scabbing, but she hoped the dark lights would hide most of it. The only saving grace for her dignity was that it had been her fourth fight of the night, and she’d been ridiculously outnumbered. She’d still won, but it had taken a little longer than expected.

In order to hide her activities, she’d stopped at a convenience store and picked up the makeup, planning on getting to Gaudia early to hide what she could before the rest of them arrived.

She shut the door behind her and dumped her spoils on the table, taking off the wrappers as quickly as she could. Not a big deal, it would take her maybe five minutes to get presentable and no one else was usually here this early.

The door opened and Sara froze, her back to the hall. She leaned her head forward slightly, her hair falling around her face as she swore silently for forgetting there was one person who would always be earlier than her.

“Welcome back, Lance.”

She stood, still keeping her back to Leonard as she heard him step into the room. She grabbed the makeup off the table. “Hey, boss.”

“Feeling better?” he asked, stepping closer. He put something down on the counter and turned toward her. She tried to keep her face averted, but it was getting weird now, and he was going to notice-

“I am, thanks.” She turned to the bathroom. “I just have to use the-”

“Everything okay?” he asked, pushing away from the counter and stepping forward to block the bathroom door.

Gritting her teeth, and wincing at the pain, she looked at the floor, trying to find an appropriate response, but coming up with nothing.

“Lance.”

Lifting her chin and biting back a sigh, Sara looked him in the eye, her hair falling back from her face.

Leonard didn’t react, and that was kind of a reaction in and of itself, that careful and sudden stillness so he didn’t reveal anything. His hand lifted, taking her chin gently and turning her face up to the light. His fingers were cool and she clenched her jaw to keep from shivering.

“Who?” he asked quietly.

“A pile of thugs. I sent them on their way.” After searching for them specifically.

“Undoubtedly. How many?”

“Four or five.” Dozen.

“When? Where?”

“Thursday morning,” she said. “On my way home.” Not a lie. That’s when it had begun.

He let go of her, and Sara took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like she’d sprinted a mile. She took a step back from him, but he didn’t move to open her way to the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was calm, but his brows were starting to draw together.

“A sprained shoulder. Some bumps and bruises. I’m fine.” He didn’t look at all convinced, and Sara smiled faintly. “I’m fine, really.”

“You should have called.”

Sara shrugged again, regretting it as the pain flared. “I texted-”

“No, I meant during. Or right after.”

“I don’t have Mick’s number,” she said.

“You have mine.”

It had been a long time since Sara had someone to rely on in a fight. Or...never, actually. Ras, her old boss, had sent them out in teams on occasion, but it had been a dangerous balance. Too many wanted to move up in the ranks, and that usually meant culling the ones above. Sara had always been top of her class, and never once trusted anyone to watch her back in a fight.

Not even Nyssa.

If she had called Leonard, what would have happened? He would have pulled up in his fancy car, loosened his fancy tie, and thrown punches? She recalled the crime scenes and knew he’d been a bit of a badass in his criminal days, but those had been over for years, according to the records.

Looking at him now, cold fury burning behind his eyes and the white tightness of his knuckles, Sara wasn’t entirely certain those days were all that long ago for him.

Her answer, though, wasn’t untrue. “I didn’t want you to get into more trouble.”

“Wouldn’t that be my decision?” he asked her, arching a brow and some of his anger seeping through. It didn’t seem to be aimed at her.

“I can take care of myself,” Sara retorted, unsure if she should be offended or not.

“I’m aware of that. That doesn’t exclude asking for help to make your life easier.” When she didn’t answer, he sighed, running a hand over his mouth before speaking again. “If it had been Charlie or Ray, you would have thrown yourself in after them.”

She didn’t need to answer. Obviously she would. Without hesitation.

“We look out for one another,” he said. “In and out of work.”

Sara looked at the ground, feeling oddly like she’d disappointed him. Not that she could tell him the truth - that she  _ had  _ been looking out for him, and Mick and Zari and Ray and Charlie, all of them. She’d been trying to find answers as to who was dealing this crap and risking everything they cared about. Because she did care, and that’s what made her failure all the more painful. She loved Gaudia and her new, loser friends with their records and bad habits and poor taste in drinks. She needed to protect them, and going at it alone was the only way she knew how. And somehow, it still wasn’t right.

“Leonard,” she began quietly.

He took a step forward, but they heard the side door open, and Zari and Charlie’s chatter as they came in. With a short, indecipherable look, Leonard stepped aside and intercepted the others with a few banal questions, keeping them distracted enough that Sara was able to cover up the worst of it, masking the rest with shadows and curled hair.

When she came out, Leonard was gone.

* * *

Numbers were down.

Leonard had the spreadsheets in front of him as he worked at the bar, showing cover charges, alcohol purchases, and tips, but he didn’t need to look at them to know the truth. He merely looked through the crowd on this Saturday night, seeing the gaps between people, the space still available on the dance floor and at the bar.

Profits were still in the black, but declining quickly. With the first body, they’d dropped, but started to head back to the high point, especially with Sara’s bartending bringing back some of the previous ones who’d left. But the second body had gutted them. There were barely at forty percent capacity and that was unacceptable.

A drink landed at his arm. He looked up to see Sara standing near him, a hesitant smile on her lips as she looked at him.

“Thanks,” he said, picking up the old fashioned and sipping it slowly. That unique taste was back and he savored it for a moment, looking at Sara only once she’d turned to take another order.

Had he not seen her without makeup, he might not have realized. He could still see the faint shadow of a bruise around her eye, and the strange stiffness at a few of her movements, but maybe that was because he already knew to look. Had he not seen, would he have been able to identify the smell of the icy-hot patch somewhere on her arm? The bruises around her knuckles? The care with which she moved her shoulder? He wanted to think so, but he wasn’t certain. The others didn’t comment, though he caught Charlie watching Sara a little closer than usual.

He’d thought she was sick and had still been annoyed she called out. Instead, she’d been attacked, and he barely had the decency to wish her a goodnight. She certainly hadn’t said anything, but that didn’t excuse his obliviousness.

Leonard told himself that this was all necessary, that this had to be maintained to protect those who and what mattered to him. But if he couldn’t even do that, what was the point? He was losing Gaudia, one low attendance night at a time. He was losing his footing with the cops, one overdose at a time. He was losing the trust of his staff - his friends - one lie at a time.

He might be able to put an end to this, but if he lost everything else in the process, would it be worth it?

Placing his glass over the folder of papers, he rubbed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the glances of various singles at the bar, all looking to catch his attention. He was infamous throughout most of Central City, but nowhere more so than here. Letting his eyes drift across his club, he could clearly see his employees, doing their best to keep the crowd excited, and safe, and dancing, and drinking-

And a man had his hand around Sara’s wrist.

She didn’t look amused or encouraging, she was actively trying to pull her arm away without being rude, but he caught the flare of pain in her eye and realized it was the bad arm. He could see her lips moving, though he was too far to hear it, the words were clear.

“I already said no, let go.”

Leonard was moving before he’d thought it through, coming up behind the man, who was leaning forward on his stool so he could reach Sara.

“...promise it’ll be fun,” he was saying, not noticing Leonard coming up behind him.

Resting his forearms on the bar next to the man, Leonard glanced at him, waiting for his full attention before speaking. “She said let go.”

The man smirked, flipping Leonard off with his free hand, and turning back to Sara. She didn’t look concerned about the issue, her expression clearly warning Leonard to leave it alone and just let it go.

He wasn’t great with that.

With one leg, he hooked the stool the man was sitting on, yanking it out from beneath him. The man hit the bar with his chest, his air bursting out of him in a gust of tequila fumes, letting go of Sara as he tried and failed to catch himself before sliding onto the floor. Or, he would have, had Leonard not grabbed the back of his too tight v-neck t-shirt and kept him mostly upright, if half out of the shirt and floundering like an uncoordinated toddler.

“Let go!” the man said, his neck and voice scrunched in the awkward position and coming out in a nasally whine.

Leonard ignored him, arching a brow at Sara and unfazed by flailing of manscaped arms below him.

She shook her head, but he saw the smile at the corner of her mouth, growing wider as she looked at him.

Glancing back down at his captive, Leonard shook him slightly. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry!” the stunted voice squeaked out.

Leonard released him and the man sprawled on his ass amidst laughter from the crowd around them. With red cheeks and shame, he stomped off to the corner of the club. Leonard watched Mick separate from the wall and stay close to the man in case he tried the same move with another clubber.

A few people congratulated Leonard as he returned to his seat, his drink already refreshed and waiting for him, along with his bartender.

He opened his mouth, but she smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Sara watched him for a moment, and then rested her elbows on the bar, leaning over the wood to speak as close to Leonard’s ear as she could.

“You were right. I should have called you. I’ll remember next time.”

Her tone was low, barely audible among Charlie’s oppressive bass and the loud hum of conversation around him. He didn’t miss a word of it, though, so focused on her voice. Her breath brushed his ear, and it was like a current down his spine. Turning his head to look her in the eye, he was still somehow surprised at how close she was, mere inches away. He could see the faint hint of red in one of her eyes, leftover swelling that she’d managed to hide from everyone else.

“Good,” was all he managed to say in response.

Her fingers brushed over the back of his hand as Sara smiled again, pulling away to get more drinks moving.

He shouldn’t be encouraging this.  He played a dangerous game and had managed to keep the others out of it for years. They’d gotten close, but never close enough to complicate it. Sara was too close. Too complicated. If he was smart, he’d cut her loose now, before it was too late.

Instead, he drank her old fashioneds and stayed at the bar for the rest of the night.

* * *

They were cleaning up after closing, loading the dishwashers and putting things away, when Zari broached the subject.

“Numbers are down,” she announced from her seat at the bar, where she was tapping through her tablet, double-checking all the doors and cameras.

Sara was wiping down the bar, and glanced at Leonard, who was still in the same spot he had been all night, save his short adventure with the handsy fratboy. She wasn’t certain if it was to look out for her or not, and decided she would give him the benefit of the doubt and take it as a kindness.

At Zari’s comment, he looked up. She half expected him to deny it or pacify them with some half-truth about certain seasons being slower than others. Instead, he nodded. “Yes, they are. We’ve been declining for a while now.”

“People don’t want to party with corpses, despite what their clothing choices might say,” Charlie said, hopping up to sit on the bartop. Sara flicked her with a towel, but she just grinned and winked, her tongue between her teeth.

“How bad is it?” Ray asked.

“If it follows the same pattern,” Leonard said calmly, “there’s a good chance we won’t make it through the year.”

“Shit,” Mick said, taking the seat next to Ray.

Leonard sighed, and leaned back, looking at all of them. “Suggestions?”

Sara put the towel away, wondering if all their staff meetings were like this.

“Raise prices?” Zari said half-heartedly.

Ray shook his head. “We stole Cameo and Ghostbar’s clientele by being cheaper. If we raise, we might lose them anyway.”

“Our area means we have to keep it cheap,” Mick added. “We’re in the slums, in case anyone forgot.”

“Not likely, considering how polite our guest was tonight,” Zari said, looking at Sara. “How many times has that guy been here?”

“Six that I can remember,” she said. “He’s not normally that bad. I usually cut him off after three, but he stole a friend’s.”

“Fucker,” Mick muttered, cracking his knuckles.

“If we can’t raise prices, what can we do?” Ray said, refocusing the group.

“Get rid of the bodies,” Charlie said, only half joking. “They’re scarin’ folks away.”

“We can’t stop them from taking drugs if we don’t see it,” Zari reminded her. “They take this shit before they get here, or in the bathrooms. Mick’s kicked out a half dozen the past two nights with some new shit.”

“What shit?” Sara asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“Some green pill, I don’t know.”

Leonard’s eyes were narrowed as he looked at Zari. “Are they getting it from here?”

“I don’t know, boss,” Zari admitted. “I’ve been looking for anything, but if the dealer’s here, he’s good.”

Sara kept her eyes on the bar, until Ray cleared his throat. “We could change up the club…”

“You’re not touching my club,” Charlie said immediately. “We’re not conforming to whatever those assholes in upper-Central call a club.”

“Maybe just a temporary-” Zari started.

“No,” Charlie interrupted.

“What about a theme night?” Sara suggested.

Zari snorted, “Theme nights are for karaoke bars and old folks homes.”

“Theme nights upped Verdant’s attendance 30 percent with little overhead,” Sara said. Ray seemed on board and Mick didn’t obviously hate it.

Leonard turned his gaze onto her. “Elaborate.”

“Your den of sin thing here is cool, but you've pulled all your regulars in already. Theme nights give you a varied clientele who are more likely to come back on a regular night, and it keeps your regulars from wandering after a bad night,” Sara said. “Gives the impression of a revamp of the club without actually doing anything to change it. Start off easy. Keep it in keeping with the vibe...a masquerade or vampire night or something.”

“You're not serious.”

Sara grinned at Charlie. “Vampires make bank for a reason. Halloween just passed, so everyone’s got costumes or cheap options, it's a perfect time to try.”

The others looked at Leonard, who seemed to be seriously considering it. He stared at her until Sara raised her brows at him “Trust me.”

Leonard finally nodded. “Alright. Wednesdays are our slowest nights. Take the 11th. If you can up attendance, we’ll make it a regular thing. And if you can't-”

“No more flowers, I know,” she interrupted, getting a laugh from Mick and Charlie and a smile from the others.

They finished cleaning up, helping Mick take out the trash before they congregated in the lounge, grabbing their things and chatting. Sara found her mind running at a mile a minute with ideas for Gaudia. Potential themes and how to get the information out there. She ended up chatting with Zari for a while after the others had left.

They walked to the side door and out to the front of the club, where Sara was surprised to see two cars waiting. One, apparently Zari had called, because she hopped in the backseat with a last wave to Sara.

The other car rolled down the passenger side window and Sara got just close enough to look inside.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked Leonard, leaning on the open window.

“Driving you home.” The console was dim, and she could barely see his face, but it sounded like he was smiling.

“Why?”

“Should I answer alphabetically?”

With a roll of her eyes that she didn’t entirely mean, Sara got in the car, putting her bag between her feet and buckling her seatbelt. “This is a one time thing.”

“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is thank you,” Leonard said.

Sara scoffed and smiled. “North. Left on 5th.”

Leonard pulled away from the curb, the car nearly silent. It was a nice ride, probably worth ten times what she made in a year. She rested her head against the back of the seat, refusing to admit she was grateful. Her ankle was throbbing and she was getting a headache.

The quiet between them was comfortable. Neither one of them needed to talk, save for Sara’s quiet directions. She felt like this was the first time she could relax in a long time.

It wasn’t until they pulled up outside of Sara’s building that she asked him, “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said immediately, almost convincingly.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, but turned to face him. The streetlight cast an orange glow on his face, not that she could read it that well, but she didn’t believe him. The silence stretched on for a minute before he spoke, his hands still on the steering wheel.

“I don’t want Gaudia to fail.”

There was a lot packed into that statement, only some of which Sara understood. She reached across the seat and touched his arm. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She didn’t promise, because she couldn’t, but she’d give him her best effort and hope it was enough.

He nodded, covering her hand with his for a moment, before she remembered herself and pulled away gently.

“Thanks for the unwelcome ride,” she said.

Leonard chuckled, and Sara got out of the car. Before she shut the door, he said, “Goodnight, Sara.”

“Goodnight, Len.” The nickname slipped out instinctively. She thought maybe she shouldn’t have said it, as Leonard stilled, his eyes moving to her. Then he smiled, and she shut the door. He didn’t pull away until she unlocked the main door and waved.

She stood in the entryway until his tail lights were out of sight. Catching herself, she shook her head, blamed it on exhaustion, and trudged upstairs.

She had work to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin goes to a class at Guadia.  
> Theme night arrives.  
> An invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mother's Day!

Guadia looked just as imposing during the day as it did during the night. Caitlin saw a few familiar faces from the class and followed them down an alley to a side door, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. The short hallway led to a metal door, which was propped open, and Caitlin could hear Iris’s voice from somewhere inside.

Caitlin entered and had to pause, making sure she was in the right place. For the past two weeks, Sara had been going on about the theme night she was putting on - a royal masquerade - but Caitlin hadn’t anticipated her to go all out.

Fake candles, lit with flickering plastic tea lights ranged over the top of the bar, gold and black streamers and chains hung in loops around the entryway and along the walls. They weren’t on yet, but Caitlin could see floor lights along the wall, red and gold and dark purple. It would be striking.

Caitlin and Iris had already promised several times that they would be there. After class, she and Iris would go back to Iris’s place to clean up and get some dinner, then come back out to help celebrate Sara’s big night.

“Cait!” Sara called.

Refocusing, Caitlin saw Iris and Sara at the bar next to a man she could only assume was the mysterious Leonard Snart. Caitlin approached, trying not to be too obvious as she looked over the club’s owner.

Every time they talked about Sara’s job, Snart’s name came into the conversation. What he’d said or done, how he helped Sara scare off the few creeps that made it past Mick, how he’d been driving her home regularly, which Caitlin was incredibly grateful for, despite Sara’s complaints about it. She wasn’t even certain if Sara was aware of how much she talked about him.

Caitlin hadn’t said anything, despite her suspicions, because she honestly thought it was good for Sara. Being a PI was wonderful and selfless, but it was dangerous and thankless, too. She’d been on route to being arrested again if she continued. Sure, the bruises from her beating a couple weeks ago had only just faded, but Caitlin hadn’t heard Marcus’s name in a while. She knew it still bothered Sara, and that she wanted to help everyone, but Caitlin was thankful she had a safe - safer - job with people who genuinely seemed to care about her. Just like Caitlin had with Harry and Cisco. And if Sara solved her mystery in the meantime, that would be nice, but Caitlin had silent hopes that this job would be permanent regardless.

And looking at Leonard Snart, she figured Sara had some other motivations to stay, too.

He was older than she expected, but the sharp blue eyes were quick, the tilt of his head devilishly charming, and his faint smile enticing.

“This is my roommate,” Sara was saying, her elbows on the bar as she leaned back against it, waiting for the others to arrive. Iris was perched on a stool on her left and the topic of Caitlin’s interest to the right of Sara.

Leonard took a step forward to take Caitlin’s hand.

“I’m Caitlin Snow. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Leonard Snart,” he said, his voice lower than she thought, his words slow and deliberate. “Pleasure.”

Caitlin took her hand back, her palm tingling and her knees pathetically weak for a moment. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” He turned that intense gaze to Sara, who merely rolled her eyes.

Caitlin already knew that Sara was a very strong person, both physically and emotionally. Now, she hypothesized that Sara must be a superhuman to have been working with Snart for over a month and not jumped his bones by now. He wasn’t even Caitlin’s type and she was half in love with him right now.

“What is it you do, Miss Snow?” Leonard asked, turning his attention back to her.

“It’s Dr. Snow,” Iris said, smiling a little too widely. At least Caitlin wasn’t the only one affected.

“My apologies, Dr. Snow.”

“It’s fine,” Caitlin said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I work in a lab.” She hesitated, knowing how these conversations usually went and long ago having decided to be completely honest every time. “S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“A lot of life changing work has been done there,” Leonard said, without any hint of sarcasm.

“And still is,” Caitlin said, lifting her chin.

“I have no doubts.” His expression seemed sincere enough, so Caitlin decided to take his words at face value.

Taking a breath, Caitlin tore her gaze away from Leonard and looked at Sara. “I thought you might have cancelled class, what with your big night and all.”

Sara grinned, looking around. “I’ve been here since noon setting it up. If I don’t burn off some of these nerves, I’m gonna lose my shit. So,” she said, raising her voice. “Let’s get started!”

They jumped into their lesson with vigor. It was one of the few moves Caitlin had actually perfected, and she felt confident enough to let her attention wander somewhat, glancing back at the bar periodically.

At first look, Leonard seemed to be occupied in his work, recording something in a classic paper ledger, checking things on his phone, writing out lists, and whatever else club owners had to do. But Caitlin kept checking, unconvinced. Why would he feel the need to stay down here the entire time, when she knew he had a comfy office just upstairs, according to Sara? Maybe there was an argument to keep an eye on Sara’s class, but it certainly wasn’t the class he kept looking at when he thought no one else was watching.

His attention seemed to follow Sara constantly, though he rarely looked directly at her. But as Sara shifted around the room, Leonard would turn in his seat, just slightly, but enough so that if he glanced up, he would see her. He seemed conscious of where she was at all times, his head tilting just slightly whenever she spoke, his hand pausing in its writing briefly to listen.

They were subtle moves, but Caitlin had spent enough time around classic recluse and introvert Harrison Wells to see some of the same movements. Harry was much the same, very conscious of those he worked with and shifting appropriately. He may do it more often to her than to Cisco, but that was part of his whole game to pretend he hated Ramon. She knew better.

Only once did Leonard look directly at Sara. She had been demonstrating how to flip a larger person over her hip, and as Julian’s body hit the mat, Sara grinned, her ponytail clinging to her shoulders.

Leonard watched her with a smile, then his eyes moved to catch Caitlin staring.

He arched a brow, the smile gone.

Caitlin cocked her head with a knowing grin. She expected him to look away, or glare, or somehow ignore her.

Instead, he slowly lifted one finger to his lips in a shush motion, then turned back to his work.

She knew it.

* * *

Leonard stepped back from the main doors and resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to let Sara keep her flowers yet again.

The line outside Gaudia extended down two blocks - unheard of for a Wednesday night. People in full costumes and masks, colorful and vivid outfits, dark and ethereal, they all were pressing for admittance. Charlie’s music thumped out through the open doors and escaped into the street, the colors from the lights inside dancing with the shadows.

He’d been here since before opening, keeping the masses in line with Mick, taking extra care to check IDs as they took cover charges. Leonard saw three undercover cops trying to get in with fake IDs, but they were turned away each time. If they retained even a third of this crowd, he wouldn’t have to worry about Gaudia for a long time.

And this was just the first night.

None of the other clubs around this area did theme nights, so they had to monopolize on it before they caught on. He already had a few ideas to continue this on Wednesdays and add a monthly weekend one, too. The decorations had been minimal in cost - a couple hundred and it was mostly for the lights, which could be reused.

He recalled the shopping trip with Sara to the party store on her day off, where she’d grabbed the most ridiculous items, trying to justify when they would be used with increasingly absurd explanations, until he was laughing - full on laughing - beneath the fluorescent lights of the store. Her smile had hung around for the rest of the day, as they purchased and bagged their spoils, unloading them back at the club and chatting over drinks before opening, then hanging around to help out, despite not having to.

Even the marketing hadn’t been costly, though he knew Sara had taken the point on that, too, posting it on every form of social media under Gaudia’s new accounts. She had Ray design a flyer and then printed it out at Iris’s work. She gave giant stacks to Mick, Zari, and Charlie and taking two for herself, distributing them around town until Leonard couldn’t go anywhere in Central City without seeing one. He’d saved a copy for himself, tucked between a book in his office. Proof of the lengths to which his friends would go in order to keep Gaudia running.

Still, it was almost overwhelming. There were nearly to capacity and it was early yet. Mick would slow down admittance, keeping the line moving just enough to keep them quiet, but they’d have to call it soon. Ray was moving among the crowd with Zari’s tablet, watching for any signs of danger, but still bopping to the music, the mask he insisted on a little too large and sliding out of place with nearly every other step.

Leonard shifted between people, seeing Charlie surrounded by a heaving crowd, masks and gowns glittering, dresses sparkling with sequins and rhinestones in all colors, until their refractions nearly drowned out his stars above. He saw lots of gold masks among the gentlemen in the crowd, shining and eye-catching, their outfits ranging from jeans to a literal knight in armor. Charlie was in rare form tonight, the excitement levels constantly rising, never giving anyone a break, until there was almost a feverish energy to the people around him.

Making it to the bar, he had to wait to get his usual place in the corner, the crowds packing around the edges. He caught one glimpse of Zari, helping out, before the people pressed around the bar again. Despite the waves of people, he couldn’t find it in him to complain.

Eventually, there was a lull in the crowd, and Leonard got his usual spot. He hadn’t seen Sara since she went up to shower after her class, and he owed her a thanks. She was turned away from him, the same flowered shawl on her shoulders - a mockery or a testament to how confident she was about this evening’s success, he wasn’t sure.

Then she turned to grab something.

A scandalous black dress, a bustier style bodice that led down to a jagged skirt just above her knees. Black ankle boots lent her a few inches, and a necklace with a blood red pendant, which dangled just above the plunging neckline. In her hair she'd woven red flowers into a makeshift crown, and her lips matched. The mask on her face was a simple red domino mask, decorated with a few small flowers.

Because of course it was.

She smiled when she saw him, and he had to remember to breathe.

He’d mastered it when she came over a few minutes later, taking a sip of the water she had beneath the bar and already grabbing the ingredients for his drink.

“Nice mask,” she said, nodding at the black mask Ray had dug up for him. It was simple, save the two horns that extended up. Mick had snorted when he saw Leonard wearing it, but they’d all agreed to participate, some with more excitement than others. “Feeling a little devilish?”

He smirked, “You’re the one who called Gaudia a...den of sin, wasn’t it? I’ve got to play my part.”

She laughed, finishing his drink and grabbed the orange garnish. “Good, ‘cause I’ve seen way too many heroes around here tonight. Nice to see something different.”

“I’m certainly no knight in shining armor.”

Sara placed his drink down, leaning on the bar in front of him and it took a great deal of self-restraint not to let his gaze wander down, but he kept it on her eyes, half hidden behind the mask.

“And I’m no damsel in distress.”

“No, you’re not,” he murmured, taking a sip from his glass. 

Sara’s eyes widened slightly, surprised at his comment, at his playing along when he’d been keeping a line between them. They would chat and laugh, but whenever it started to get too reckless, he pulled back. Not to say they didn’t talk about personal things - he’d heard the full story of her father’s death, and her sister’s, and he’d given her just a hint of his childhood, and told her about Lisa, living in Metropolis - but they both tried to keep to their sides of the invisible line they’d created. But tonight...

He told himself it was just harmless flirting. It played into his reputation, it meant nothing. Besides, people expected it of him. No one would read anything into it.

Well, except the doctor, apparently.

Her brow arched up and her tongue darted out to wet her lips, “So is it true there’s no rest for the wicked?”

Leonard leaned over, close enough that she could hear but far enough away that it might just seem he was talking to an employee. “That’s why sinners have more fun.”

Before she could answer, he stepped away, feeling her gaze on his back as he wove his way through the crowd, cheering and singing and dancing and drinking in his club. He was walking a dangerously thin line, but Leonard’s lips curved into a smile as he surveyed the crowd, his club, his bar, his team, and took a deep sip of his drink, feeling invincible.

What was life without a little danger?

* * *

Sara maneuvered through the crowd, three glasses in her hand as she made her way to a booth along the side. She was jostled left and right by people, but she couldn’t find the energy to be annoyed.

She had done this - she had helped save Gaudia.

The people pouring in were here because of what she had done. And that was satisfying in a way that being a PI wasn’t.

Saving people felt great, but it happened so rarely. Too often, she was the one delivering bad news or confirming someone’s worst fears. At Gaudia, she didn’t have to tell someone that their son wasn’t coming home, or that their wife really was cheating on them. And she still got to save people.

She saved Zari, who was slinging drinks like a pro, giving Sara the rest of the night off before clean up to enjoy herself.

She saved Mick, who had already enthusiastically broken up three fights outside the club, his laughter the only thing louder than the music.

She saved Ray, who had somehow managed to convince a group of Millennials that he was dancing ironically, and were now cheering on his legitimately terrible dance moves.

She saved Charlie, who was setting records for how loudly the crowd cheered for her as she gave them track after upbeat track.

And she’d saved Leonard, who...

Sara pushed that aside, placing the three drinks down in front of Caitlin, Iris, and herself.

“I take back everything I’ve said about theme nights!” Iris shouted, pounding half her drink in one go. “This is amazing!”

Caitlin’s grin was wide. “Seriously, Sara. This is unbelievable. I’m so proud of you.”

Sara’s cheeks hurt from smiling so broadly. “I’m glad you guys made it.”

“I’m coming here every theme night,” Iris announced. “Or at least, every night Barry cancels on me.”

Sara patted her friend sympathetically, “He get called out on a case?”

“Another overdose.” Iris drained her drink and Caitlin pushed hers in front of her.

“Really?” Sara asked, some of her joy at the night fading. “Where?”

Caitlin opened her mouth to speak, but flinched, grabbing at her phone in her purse. “Hello?”

Iris shrugged. “A few blocks from Ted’s. Or used to be Ted’s. Did you hear he left town?”

“Harry?” Caitlin said, plugging her ear with her other hand to hear better. “Is everything okay?”

Sara hadn’t heard about Ted, but she wasn’t surprised. “Good riddance.”

“No shit.”

“I can’t hear you,” Caitlin was shouting into the phone. “I’m at a club.”

Sara arched a brow at Caitlin, who seemed oblivious, then glanced at Iris. Iris rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to die of old age before she figures this out,” she muttered, draining the rest of Caitlin’s drink.

“No,” Caitlin was laughing. “No, I’m with Sara and Iris. Hang on a second, let me get somewhere quieter.” She mouthed something neither Sara nor Iris understood, then walked away from the table, still shouting into her phone.

Iris watched her go, then slammed her palms on the table. “I think I’m drunk enough to dance. Want to join me?”

“Always,” Sara said, taking Iris’s extended hand and walking out onto the dance floor. It was easy enough to find the rhythm, what with it pounding through her bones, and Sara threw her head back and laughed, savoring this moment.

It was several songs later, and Iris had recognized a few people she worked with and had joined their group for a moment, bragging about how she knew the owner, when Charlie finally slowed things down slightly. The music was still deafening, but it was smoother and sultrier, giving everyone a chance to catch their breath or a better excuse to lose it.

Sara remained on the dance floor, not needed a partner or a group or a friend to dance with, and closed her eyes, rolling her neck on her shoulders as she worked out whatever tension remained from throwing the biggest party she’d ever hosted in her life. Her face tilted up to the stars above her and she smiled, letting the music wash over her.

She didn’t know what prompted her to open her eyes. A feeling, a guess, a hope, but she did. Above her, nearly indistinguishable from the stars above, she saw a figure standing on the catwalk, a drink in hand, and the outline of horns against the starlight.

There was no way to know, not really, what he was looking at, but she knew it nonetheless. So she continued to dance, her eyes open and on the stars, as he watched her, only moving to sip from the glass.

When the song faded away into something more upbeat, Sara stopped dancing for the first time since hitting the floor and waited for...something.

Leonard stared down at her, his face only visible during certain pulses of the lights. It was during one of those brief visible moments that he jerked his head to the side - toward the catwalk door.

Toward his door.

For a minute, or an hour, neither one of them moved. Then they both - it was impossible to say who moved first - broke their gaze and walked. Sara to the employee door and Leonard to the catwalk door.

She looked back only once, seeing his smirk before he shut the catwalk door behind him. Hiding her stupid, unintentionally wide smile, she moved as quickly as she could, anticipation buzzing beneath her skin and her stomach doing flips as she weaved between couples and under arms and around drinks and-

Smashed directly into someone.

“Sorry,” Sara said, grabbing his arm to steady him.

“It’s fine, my bad.”

She knew that voice.

Sara blinked the lights away from her vision, focusing on the man in front of her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his brown eyes concerned. The blonde hair had been sprayed with red for the evening, to match the more traditional devil mask on his face. His red suit was garish, but not the worst she’d seen tonight, but Sara cocked her head, recognition tickling up her spine.

“I’m fine,” Sara said, still not letting go. “I know you.”

He grinned, mistaking her confusion for something else. “My reputation precedes me, huh? Something I can help you with? Take the edge off? I’ve got all the good shit.”

_ “This is some good shit, too. Fresh.” _

Sara’s grip tightened and her smile vanished. “You.”

The recognition seemed mutual now, and he tried to pull away. “Oh, fuck, you-you’re Snart’s bartender. Sorry. I didn’t-”

She hauled him to the employee door, most people looking past her and choosing not to notice, and those that did would fail to recognize her anyway with the mask in place.

The door slammed shut behind them, as Sara shoved him into the wall. 

“Hey, look-”

“Shut up,” Sara hissed, taking off her mask. “You’re going to leave this club and never deal here again, do you understand?”

He found a bit of his backbone, “I have an agreement-”

“I don’t care.” Sara leaned in, letting him see the fire in her eyes. “I don’t want to see your face here ever again. And if I do-”

“Let him go.”

She didn’t, but she turned her head at the order, coming from the stairs to her left. Leonard was on the last step, moving into the hallway. His eyes were on her, the mask in his hand, and she shook her head at him slightly. Asking him to stay out of it. Not to repeat what he said. Not to prove everything she’d believed about him that first day. Not to be the man she feared he was and instead be the one she hoped he was.

His expression was inscrutable, and he ignored her silent plea.

“Let him go, Sara.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara gets some answers.  
> Leonard is left with questions.  
> An unexpected visitor forces them to get...close.

“Let him go, Sara,” Leonard repeated, keeping his face calm.

Thirty seconds previously, he’d been on his way to a ill-advised tryst with no one but himself to blame - and thank - done with plotting and lying and all of it, at least for tonight.

But then he’d heard Sara’s voice. He’d heard Werner’s voice. And it was over before it began.

Sara looked at him, her hand wrapped in Werner’s suit. “He’s a drug dealer.”

“I know. Let him go.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed, and he now knew why even the most persistent men and women tended to give up when she told them no. Fire burned behind her eyes and her mouth was twisted into a snarl. She shoved Werner away from her, sending him stumbling towards the side door.

Werner looked up at Leonard, who forced himself to shrug carelessly. “I warned you about trying to deal to my staff.”

“This is fucked, Snart, if you’re out, then Zytle-”

“I am not out,” Leonard said coolly, walking towards him. He completely ignored Sara as he walked past her, ignored her clenched fists and jaw, ignored the confusion and anger in her stance, ignored the way she stared at him like she didn’t know him at all. “This is merely a...misunderstanding. Our arrangement is as it had always been.”

Werner’s eyes darted to Sara, but Leonard shifted, blocking her, putting himself between Sara and Werner, keeping him safe from her. “Take the night off. I’ll explain things to her and it won’t happen again.”

He hesitated, but Leonard knew the pull of money was too great for him to leave. “Fine. But if she comes after me again-”

“She won’t,” Leonard said, praying she had the presence of mind to be silent.

There was a scoff from behind him, but it was lost in the music and Werner’s panicked breathing. Leonard opened the side door for Werner, and the dealer took off, knowing better than to try to push anything right now.

Leonard shut the door, making sure it was fully closed before turning around.

Sara was livid, shaking in her anger as she stood by the stairs. “You knew?”

“Yes,” he said calmly.

“You knew?” she repeated, taking a step towards him. “And you allowed him in here?”

“Yes.”

“Then I quit. I will  _ not- _ ”

Leonard walked towards her, seeing her raise her chin as he approached, defiance written in every inch of her aspect as she spoke.

He walked past her.

Sara sputtered in anger, but she came after him, like he thought she would. “What the hell are you doing?”

Leonard didn’t slow his pace. “We can discuss this in my office, or you can quit and go home now. But I’m not having it out in the hallway.”

Sara muttered something he missed, but then pressed her mouth shut and followed him upstairs. They were silent all the way up, the only sound the creak of metal beneath Leonard’s feet. He didn’t hear any noise from Sara, but refused to look back to see if she was still there. Unlocking his door, he stepped aside for her to go first, and Sara walked past him, her mouth in a thin line and refusing to meet his eyes.

A far sight different than he’d been hoping for just a few minutes ago.

Leonard shut the door behind her, and gestured for her to go first. Or, he would have, had she not immediately burst into speech, her temper snapping almost audibly.

“How dare you allow him in here?” she hissed. “We’re barely keeping open with the bodies they’ve found, and you just let him deal that shit? I thought you were better than that! You said you wanted Gaudia to make it, but letting people like him in here is what’s going to destroy it. I respected you, I thought you were better than what people said you were. Turns out you’re not.”

Leonard let her keep going, ignoring the comments that stung, until she ran out of speed and crossed her arms.

Waiting another moment or two until he was certain she was done, he spoke. “Do you know what happens when you try to keep dealers out of clubs?”

“You don’t have drugs?” Sara spat with a huff.

Leonard stared at her for a minute, remembering that for all of her experiences and the enigma that was her past, he was older than her. Fourteen years, if he had his math right. It rarely seemed important, but right now…

He could lie. Let her believe the worst and quit. Gaudia would be okay, eventually. They could make it, and she’d just be one other person who believed what he presented to them.

But the thought of Gaudia without flowers, it...didn’t sit right with him. So he decided to do what he thought he wouldn’t ever do. He’d tell her the truth.

“Without having a designated dealer for the club, this becomes an area of contention for rival gangs, each of them trying to get a foothold in here. Which means fights and casualties. It also means more drugs.” He took a seat on the couch, running his hand over his face. He glanced up at her, pleased to see she had lowered her arms. She was still frowning, but it didn’t seem to be directed at him.

“If I know who’s dealing, I can keep an eye on them. No turf wars, one designated dealer. If he brings bad product, he knows he’s out. If anyone OD’s on premises, he’s out. I know his face, I know his boss. They won’t try me.” He found his fingers fidgeting with his cufflinks and stopped, lowering his hand. “I can’t keep people from buying. But I can control what’s offered.”

“Greater good,” Sara said quietly.

“I hate that term. But, in a word.” He looked up at Sara.

She had taken a few steps closer to him, but she was still suspicious, it was obvious. And why wouldn't she be? Everyone believed he was a criminal, everyone believed he was still in contact with all his old cronies, and it was in his best interest that they did.

She chewed her lip, thinking over something. “You bought some.”

Leonard arched a brow, and Sara refused to blush or look away.

She explained, though. “I heard. My first night. I was coming down from the catwalk and I heard you. You bought from him.”

He got to his feet, crossing over to the bar on the side of the living room, and pouring himself a drink and one for her, too. Assumptive, but he did it anyway. “Dealers don’t trust those who won’t...indulge. I buy from him, just enough to keep them from getting suspicious. It goes down the drain as soon as he leaves.” He glanced over his shoulder, meeting her eyes. “I’ve never liked drugs.”

She still didn’t seem convinced, but she was still standing there, waiting for an explanation, waiting for his answers. If she’d believed since day one that he was everything people thought he was, it was frankly astonishing she was still here. That she was giving him an opportunity to explain himself at all. He walked over, handing her the drink and she took it, but didn’t lift it to her lips.

“You paid him, too,” she said, her temper fading. “What for?”

“An additional clause his boss doesn’t know about. He makes his cut from Zytle for selling. He makes almost the same from me for not dealing to the drunks, the overdosers, the obviously nervous. Zari and I monitor him throughout the evening, and if he’s behaved, he makes more.”

He saw her jaw jumping slightly as her eyes glanced around the room, putting the pieces together, making sense of what he said and weighing against what she’d seen and heard.

He hoped she didn’t find him wanting.

“You said if anyone OD’s, he’s gone. So he isn’t selling what killed that girl?”

She was more well informed than he expected. But that was his own damn fault, for thinking she wouldn’t meticulously shatter every one of his expectations. “No. That’s...another issue.”

She threw back the scotch without a wince, then walked past him to take a seat on the edge of one couch. “Fuck.”

Leonard’s snort of agreement was lost as he sipped from his drink, but the sentiment was shared. He crossed over to an armchair, close enough to continue the conversation, but separating himself from her. It was too little, too late, but he had to try.

Sara stared into the empty glass and he watched her, uncomfortable with the quiet, but knowing she needed the time. She was missing her flowers from her hair. He’d seen one fall out when she was dancing but-

Less than ten minutes ago and he’d invited her up here. Foolish, but he hadn’t been able to resist, and it seemed she had been amenable to the idea as well. The mood was irrevocably killed now, but the memory wasn’t. The anticipation wasn’t. He’d wanted to feel her dancing beneath his fingers, taste what those smiles were like, seeing if he could catch her laughter in his room, between his lips.

Swallowing silently, Sara finally looked up. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Whatever he had been expecting her to say, it sure as hell wasn’t that. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t trust you. I mean, I did, but I thought-”

“You thought exactly what I wanted you to think. I gave you every reason to believe I was what everyone said I was. I am.” Leonard finished his drink, a cold smirk on his face, but he couldn’t maintain it. It faded as Sara regarded him.

“You’re exactly who I hoped you were.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t seem to expect a response, though, sighing and breaking eye contact as she shook her head.

“So what are we going to do?”

“About what?” he asked.

“This drug. If we don’t find the dealer, they’re going to get someone killed again. And Gaudia-”

“We’re going to do nothing. You need to stay out of it.”

The anger appeared again, the glare lighting up her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“This isn’t some low-level thug,” he said, getting to his feet. “You have no idea-”

“You know who it is.” She matched him, rising as well, interrupted him in that infuriating way that she did. Taking three large steps forward, she got in his personal space, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at him. “Tell me.”

Leonard didn’t budge, his smirk in place to keep her back, keep her at arm’s length. “As interrogation tactics go, not the best-”

“Is it Adams?”

He blinked.

Fucking hell, how did she know? She couldn’t know. He’d been careful, the only time she may have heard something was...the phone call.

Sara’s smile was wicked, and made it clear she knew she was right. She turned away, apparently leaving this very second to find Adams and-

Leonard grabbed her wrist as she turned away.

Logically, not the best move he could have made. He’d been present in her classes when she’d shown how to flip, break, and incapacitate anyone from doing exactly what he was doing now. So he knew, as her muscles tensed beneath his fingers and she turned to look at him, that he was living on borrowed time. Doing the only thing he could do, he told her the truth.

“I know that you want to get him now, but he has the slums under his thumb. Everyone reports to him, and no one knows where he makes his base.” His voice was low, insistent, and, embarrassingly enough, pleading. “I don’t know what’s in his drug or how it’s being dispersed or where it’s being stored, and if you somehow manage to make it through the ranks and get to him, he’s got dozens of lieutenants lined up to take his place.”

Her muscles were still tense, but she hadn’t pulled away yet.

“I’ve been working this for months and he’s ruthless. Do you think it’s an accident Gaudia seems to be being targeted? He suspects, despite my efforts, and he’s pressuring me to make a move. So he can make his.” He took a breath, his voice dropping slightly. “If you go after him, and fail to wipe out every last bit of it, it won’t be you he goes after. It’ll be Gaudia. Charlie. Your students. The doctor.”

The look he got was angry, frustrated, because she knew he was right and she hated him a little for using her friends against her. But it was the fact he’d been living with for half a year. The only reason he’d gone through such lengths to maintain his temper and reputation. He let go of her arm, and she took a step away from him, her fists at her side.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” she asked.

Telling her to do nothing was clearly the wrong move. “Play it smart. We need to know everything before we try to take him down. I have connections, but Adams does, too. If I ask too many questions, or the wrong one-”

“He could hear about it. What do you need?”

“I need to know what it is. I need to know where it’s being made. I need details on how it’s distributed or where the other bodies were found. I need to know Adams’s history, his lieutenants and their records, everything.” He scoffed, not a laugh, but a humorless noise. “I need a cop.”

Sara went still, biting her lip. She seemed to be coming to some sort of decision, because she took a breath in, and a step nearer and said, “Len, I’m-”

There was a knock on the apartment door.

* * *

Sara glanced at the door, cutting off her admission before Leonard threw up his hand. He grabbed his phone, and looked at something, then cursed quietly, running his hand over his head. “Fuck, I didn’t realize…” He looked up at her, and the expression was carefully blank, like it got when he was hiding something.

“Adams,” he said, by way of explanation, of warning, of...apology. He raised hand became just a finger, as he pressed a button on his phone. “Thought I said next week for our face to face.”

His voice had dropped, that oozing, deliberate choice of words, layered under inches of condescension and pride. The voice he used with Doyle.

Captain Cold’s voice.

Adams’s voice came through his phone, but Sara could hear the faint murmur from outside the door. “I came to celebrate your big night, Cold. Wasn’t gonna bother you, but when I saw you kicking out Zytle’s bitch and taking the blonde upstairs, I figured you could spare a minute for an old friend.”

Well, that ruled out her hiding in the bedroom.

“Give me a minute,” Leonard said. He slid his phone back into his pocket and when he met Sara’s eyes, there was a tinge of regret.

“I need you to do exactly as I say, without question. You keep quiet, and play along, otherwise everyone in this club is going to die. Do you understand?”

She didn’t, not in the slightest, but she nodded anyway.

Leonard moved quickly, pouring dark alcohol into their glasses again, and placing them next to the couch. He took a deep sip, and without looking said, “Lose the flowers.”

For once, she didn’t argue. The tension was obvious and she didn’t want to add to it. He lowered the lights and removed his jacket, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. Sara realized what he wanted his guests to think. She slipped off the sheer flowered wrap and ran her fingers through her hair, touseling it and sitting on arm of the couch.

Another knock came and Leonard took a breath, “I’m sorry.” The his demeanor changed again, his expression was one of arrogant disdain, his movements were smoother and artful, even his voice had lowered as he opened the door.

“Adams. Wasn’t expecting you.”

Sara kept her face mildly bored, her eyes on Leonard as he sauntered back to her, sitting on the couch she was resting on. His arm went around her waist and pulled her into his lap, as casually as breathing. Sara turned her gasp of surprise into a breathy giggle, and realized why Leonard had apologized.

Even as an assassin, she’d been the distraction before. She knew what to do.

She rested on one of his legs, her knees between his, as one of his hands curved over her hip, idly sliding up and down along the fabric of her dress. One of her arms went around his shoulders, the other landing on his chest. His free hand, however, settled on the bare skin of her knee, and he gave every impression of a man who was in the midst of being thoroughly ready to ravish a woman.

The man who followed Leonard in would have been at home in Gaudia. His dark, red patterned shirt was half covered with a suit jacket, though not nearly the caliber of Leonard’s clothes. There was a cluster of silver chains and pendants hanging against the thin chest. Though clothes were clean and he seemed to take care in his appearance, Sara saw the bitten nails and ragged skin of an addict. The two men behind him looked like any number of thugs she’d encountered before, large and violent, eyeing her a little too closely. She’d give anything to take them down, here and now, but Leonard’s warning was still ringing in her ear, and she didn’t want someone else to pay the price.

“Most people call me the Count, now,” Adams said, his chin lifting slightly in unearned pride.

The bisected C shot through Sara’s mind, on the baggies of the drugs. The Count.

Leonard smirked. “Well, you’ll always be Cecil Adams to me.”

There was a flicker of anger as Leonard refused to acknowledge Adams’s supposed rise to power, but it was a good move. It set the stage, it off-balanced Adams, and it made it clear who had the high ground here.

Leonard was fucking good.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Adams said, his voice smooth, if with a slight edge now.

Leonard’s chuckle was cold, his hand still moving up her thigh, down, then back up higher, then down again, repeating the motion. “You aren’t. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Adams glanced at Sara, but she smiled vapidly at him, then turned back to Leonard. The seating arrangement put her in close proximity to his face, so she tried to remain focused on that, fingering the buttons on his shirt,  undoing a couple more, looking too wrapped up in him to take any part or interest in the conversation.

Honestly, a part of her was. She’d never been this close to him before, and it was a little heady. She inhaled, tasting notes of whiskey and sandalwood on the back of her tongue, and leaned a little closer to Leonard.

“I saw you threw out Werner,” Adams said, taking a seat, though Leonard hadn’t offered one. He grinned. “What did that spineless pissant do wrong?”

Leonard didn’t smile, “Werner dealt to my bartender. He knows no dealing to employees on the clock.”

“What did she take?” Adams asked.

Leonard glanced at Sara, their noses brushing as he met her eyes. “Don’t know,” he said, uncaring. “We were...working it off when you arrived.” The hand on her waist slid up, brushing the swell of her breast, and he looked away from her to meet Adams’s gaze again. Sara kept her eyes on Leonard, her breathing only slightly ragged.

Adams made a sound that could have been amusement, but came out more disgusted. “So, you’ve reconsidered then?”

“Time doesn’t change my mind. We can discuss Gaudia’s loyalties when your shit doesn’t kill my patrons.” His hand was still moving, separate of the conversation, as a distraction and throwing Adams off guard. Sara herself had to remind herself to focus as Leonard’s fingers edged further beneath the hem of her skirt, cool against her heated skin.

“There are always...casualties in the creation of art.” Adams waved his hand, to encompass everything in the room and outside of it.

“My club won’t be one of them,” Leonard said, his hand ceasing its movement. Adams hadn’t seen it yet, but if he did-

Sara shifted slightly, and her hand slipped beneath his shirt to press warningly on his skin, out of Adams’s sight. Adams already knew Leonard cared about Gaudia, but he didn’t need to know how much. So she ignored the warmth of Leonard’s skin, the feel of his breath against her lips, and focused on keeping her smile flirtatious. Leonard resumed his journey after a breath, edging higher and higher between her legs.

“Zytle’s operation is flawed, as you’ve seen,” Adams said, glancing at Leonard’s movements before looking away quickly, a faint flush rising in his cheeks. His goons, on the other hand, couldn’t look anywhere else but at her as she grew warmer by the second, her eyes half-closed and her lips parted. “Throwing your lot in with him-”

“Let’s be clear,” Leonard said, that cool detachedness lowering the temperature in the room. “I don’t throw my lot in with anyone. Gaudia is a no-man’s land, unless I deem it otherwise. I have benefits from allowing Zytle to deal here, while you only bring the cops to my doors. I will not have my business suffer because you can’t get your product under control.”

She caught Adams’s cruel smile. “You’ll regret that.”

“Is that a threat?”

Sara couldn’t help it. She rolled her head slightly to look directly at Adams, keeping the smile on her face, as she shifted in Leonard’s lap. Her movement brushed her against his arousal, and though he didn’t react, she felt how much he wasn’t just playing with her.

Had she not seen Werner, had she made it upstairs without interruption, would they still have ended up in this situation? Would they have gone further? With Leonard’s hands on her, his breath in her ear, she knew the answer would have been a hell yes. She was half-drunk on him right now, even with the other men in the room. Her hand around his shoulders, reached up, tracing the edge of his jaw as he spoke, as if she wasn’t even there.

“You remember what happened to the last man to threaten me.”

Adams hesitated, and Sara forced herself back to the conversation, even as Leonard upped the ante with Adams, making him more uncomfortable as he leaned forward slightly, moving her hair to the side before pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. Her eyes slid shut and she leaned into him, her knees sliding open further, not acting at all. Leonard’s hands tightened around her, holding her against him, and she heard a faint groan from him that Adams might not have been able to hear.

She opened her eyes a touch, to see Adams shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“It’s not a threat,” Adams backtracked, trying to look anywhere but at Sara and failing. “But I stand to make a lot of money with Vertigo, money that you’ll miss out on.”

So that’s what he was calling it. Vertigo.

“From what I’ve seen,” Leonard’s words were muffled against Sara’s skin, “you have a drug that kills people, no home base, and no proof of longevity in this game. If you gave me something concrete, I’d reconsider, but at this moment…” He chuckled, the vibration sliding through his lips and fingers to settle beneath her skin. “I think I have everything I need.”

His fingers moved up again, as Sara rolled her hips a touch, the action instinctual. The combination meant he moved too far up, and brushed against the now damp material keeping her covered.

Leonard immediately withdrew, but Adams had stood and turned toward the door, missing the action.

“I will keep you updated on our progress, and when there aren’t any...negative side effects, I’ll let you know. Then you can make a decision,” Adams said, facing them again, tugging his jacket nervously.

“Looking forward to it,” Leonard said lowly, his tone indicating he was already bored and moving on.

Adams had no response, so he grabbed for the door, glancing back at Sara with a slight frown. They needed a believable finale.

Turning with an ease granted by the League, Sara shifted so she was straddling Leonard, though her neck prickled at putting her back to Adams and his men. She looped her arms around Leonard’s neck, as if they were immediately picking up where Adams had interrupted them. Sara couldn’t help her moan as her eyes closed, Leonard’s lips against her throat and moving down, his hands hard on her hips as she rolled against him.

Leonard noticed Adams’s attention. “Always a pleasure,” he said over Sara’s shoulder, a clear dismissal. He placed both his hands on her thighs and slid them up-

Adams slammed the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of the night before.  
> Sara asks for a favor.  
> Balance is restored.

 

Sara’s alarm went off the next morning, and she didn’t move for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling.

Last night had been…

Complicated.

After Adams had left, Leonard had shifted her off of him immediately, putting feet of space between them and doing up his buttons once again. It had taken Sara longer to catch her breath, sitting up on the couch and trying to fix her hair into a semblance of control. She’d opened her mouth to speak several times, but the words had died in the silence, remaining unsaid, and things got more uncomfortable with every quiet second.

By the time Leonard turned around, his demeanor was back in control. Nothing of the flirt who’d invited her up, or the criminal who’d talked down to Adams, or the man who’d told her the truth of who he was and what he was doing.

“I’m sor-”

“It’s fine,” Sara interrupted. “Really, I didn’t-”

“-if there had been another option, I-”

“-totally understand if-”

“-never again.”

Sara bit her lip, nodding without looking at him. Never again, huh? Maybe his physical reaction had been purely physical. He could regret it, for a variety of reasons. A sane person would probably regret it, hate being felt up as a distraction and in front of killers and drug dealers.

Didn’t stop Sara from dreaming about it though. Cool hands on her thighs and lips on her skin and when Adams had left, she’d straddled Leonard’s lean hips, and he’d smirked and it hadn’t stopped and-

But, it appeared the feeling wasn’t mutual. They’d gone back downstairs without another word between them, and Sara helped out until closing, feeling no inclination to dance anymore.

As they’d closed the club down and cleaned up, Leonard had avoided her without ever appearing to. He would only approach her if someone else was there, kept their conversations purely about work, and when she walked outside, the car waiting for her was an Uber, prepaid and loaded with directions.

So that was how it was going to be.

Though the rejection stung, Sara couldn’t bring herself to be angry or upset with him, not really. The avoidance hurt, but...she knew enough of Leonard’s past to understand that physical touch might not be his thing, even if he’d had to put on a show last night. He’d done it to protect Gaudia, and all of them, including her. She couldn’t be upset with him for that. If she got caught up in the moment, that wasn’t his fault. It was her issue to deal with, and she could put that...attraction aside, and do her job. Jobs. She could still help Gaudia, but she’d have to tread carefully around Leonard for a while, if she wanted to stay on. So she exhaled and got up out of bed, leaving her moping and regrets behind her.

Sara’s long shower went a long way in restoring her mood, but she still had a headache at the back of her eyes and along her temples. Coffee was in order, as was a short visit to Caitlin, which she wasn’t looking forward to.

Still, she had to grab her stuff for class and for work later. She eyed the clothes in her closet, settling on a pair of black pants and a flowing, flowered top. She ripped off the tag, remembering Caitlin’s odd looks when she’d bought a bunch of flowered pieces to add into her predominantly black wardrobe. The club got hot enough to make the tank top appropriate, and even if she had to walk home, she’d manage. Despite the chill of October, November had been unseasonably warm. Besides, she’d dealt with worse discomfort before. Putting her clothes in her bag, she threw on her workout clothes and went out.

As she hit the street, she picked up her phone, clicking on one of her contacts.

_ “Ugh...what?” _ Iris’s voice wasn’t nearly her peppy self.

Sara grinned, “Aww, did someone party a little too hard last night?”

_ “I hate you. What do you want?” _

Sara hesitated. Though this was definitely the easier request of her day, she still felt guilty. “I need some help.”

There was a shuffling noise as Iris apparently shifted and focused.  _ “I’m intrigued. What’s up?” _

“You’ve been tracking this drug case, right? The one Barry’s been called in on?”

_ “Well, when I have such a great source, how can I resist?” _

Deciding to review the ethics of that later, Sara sidestepped a pedestrian. “I need what you have. Where the incidents were, how many, what they were doing prior to being found, suspects. Everything.”

_ “Why?” _

The question was blunt and no nonsense, exactly what Sara has learned to expect from Iris. She wasn’t not looking for payment, not really, but Iris dealt in information the way Caitlin dealt in science and Sara dealt in fists. She knew Iris will give it to her anyway, but she owed her some of the truth.

“I think it’s a lot bigger than just some new drug. It’s a new dealer, and I think he’s shaking down a lot of important people in this town. I think if someone doesn’t stop him, he’s going to hurt a lot of people.”

Iris was silent for a long moment, and Sara checked to make sure she didn’t hang up. There’s a faint tapping, like a keyboard.

_ “When this blows over, I want details.” _

Sara heaved a sigh, “When it blows over, I will tell you so much more than you want to know.”

_ “Impossible,” _ Iris retorted.  _ “I’ve emailed you what I’ve got now, but my contacts at the PD are holding back a bit more than usual, with Doyle on the case. Everyone knows he’s got a temper, and flirting doesn’t work, now that I’m engaged to Barry. I’ve got causes of death, but not official autopsies. If I get something, I’ll let you know.” _

“You are amazing.”

_ “I know, _ ” she said calmly.  _ “Now, I want to know something.” _

“I just told you-”

_ “Were you planning that little tryst with Snart last night? Or was it spur of the moment?” _

Sara had to put a lot of effort into continuing to walk. “I-”

_ “I saw you dancing and I saw you leaving. I’m not stupid, even if I was drunk.” _

For a moment, she debated lying. But even if Iris could spot a lie from a thousand feet off, Sara didn’t want to. “It’s not what you think.”

Iris hummed quietly, unconvinced or not, it was hard to tell.  _ “Did you want it to be what I thought?” _

“No. Yes. Maybe.”

_ “I’ll take it for now. And I know you won’t listen to me, because you rarely do, but be careful. There are a lot of bodies dropping. I don’t want you to be one.” _

“I’m always careful.”

_ “No, you’re not,”  _ Iris said ruefully. _ “I’m going back to bed. Text me.” _

“Bye.”

The walk to the Jitters closest to S.T.A.R. Labs, and the long line outside of it, ate up a good portion of her afternoon. She made her way through the sterile hallways of S.T.A.R. Labs, the echo of her footsteps on the tile the only sound once she left the elevator, until raised voices reached her ear.

She cocked her head, recognizing Cisco and Dr. Wells’s tones easily, as well as the laughter of her roommate in the background. Gritting her teeth, she forced her expression into a smile.

Harrison Wells was on his feet leaning over the console to talk to Cisco, whose smug grin made it clear he was winning whatever argument they were having.

“...will never understand how you manage to get dressed in the morning, without two brain cells to rub together,” Harrison was conceding defeat, pushing himself away from the console and turning away.

Catching sight of Sara in the doorway, Harrison paused, glancing at Caitlin.

Her friend got out of her seat, smiling gently at Sara. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Sara lifted the carrier of coffee she’d brought, one for each of them and herself. “I come bearing gifts.”

“I knew I liked you better than Iris,” Cisco said, grabbing a cup and handing it to Harrison after an inspection.

“I heard you had a successful evening,” Harrison said, obviously trying to distance them from the way they’d met last time. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” she answered, though her excitement of yesterday was diminished after everything else.

“Yup, I heard the party was bumpin’,” Cisco said, taking a big sip from his drink.

“No one says ‘bumping’ anymore,” Caitlin interjected, knocking her shoulder against his.

“From the look on your face this morning, you closed out that party, Cait,” Cisco grinned. “You must have had quite the night.”

Caitlin flushed slightly, but it was true. Sara had seen her and Iris leaving with the last bit of the crowd, chatting with Iris’s coworkers. Regaining a bit of her former energy, Sara’s eyes darted to Harrison before she smirked at Caitlin.

“I’m surprised you managed to shake those boys from Star City.”

In her peripherals, Sara watched Harrison freeze, just for a moment, then very carelessly lean against the console, like he wasn’t paying any attention at all. Sara knew better.

“Did you get some digits, girl?” Cisco laughed.

“What century were you born in?” Caitlin’s flush was high on her cheeks now.

“That’s not a no.” Sara glanced over at Harrison again.

He was looking at a piece of paper, but his eyes weren’t moving.

“Shut up,” Caitlin said. “Why are you here, other than to disrupt my day?”

Sara’s good mood faded, but she plastered a smile on. “Let’s talk in private.”

With a slightly suspicious look, but still smiling, Caitlin led Sara back to her office, closing the door. “What’s up?”

Sara picked at the edge of her lid of coffee, buying some time. “Does Harrison always get that jealous?”

“Sara.”

Sara chewed her lip, then quietly said, “I need a favor.”

Caitlin hesitated.

Sara rarely, if ever, asked for favors. Not real favors. She knew what favors were - doing something you felt uncomfortable with for a friend. She hated making Caitlin uncomfortable, but she needed information.

“What is it?” If Caitlin had one fault, it was unwavering loyalty.

“I need to know where the drug comes from and what it is,” Sara said quietly.

Caitlin shrugged. “I can’t do much if I don’t-”

Sara pulled out a small baggie with green pills. “I took this the night that girl...I needed to know. It’s called Vertigo.” She held it out.

Caitlin inhaled slowly, her eyes wide. “...I could lose my job.”

“I know,” Sara said quietly. “And if I had anything else, I wouldn’t have asked. But people are dying and Doyle isn’t doing shit to help them. I shook down every dealer I know, and I got nothing but bruises. I know who’s behind it, but I don’t have any proof. If I knew what it was, maybe I could do more.”

Caitlin stared at the baggie, not looking at Sara. “Knowing what it is isn’t going to stop it from being on the streets.”

“I know. That’s what I’m working on.”

“What are you doing to do?” Caitlin asked.

“Whatever it takes.”

Caitlin met Sara’s eyes. If she said no, Sara wouldn’t ask her again. The Caitlin Sara had heard about years ago, Sara never would have asked her. But her Caitlin, this Caitlin, the Caitlin that had survived the particle accelerator explosion, the disgrace of S.T.A.R. Labs, who’d kept Harry grounded when he’d been ready to run, the Caitlin who had picked up the pieces and kept going when Ronnie died...That Caitlin was one Sara knew was tough enough to do this.

So she wasn’t entirely shocked when Caitlin nodded and took the bag, though the guilt still niggled at her.

“Thank you,” Sara said.

“Don’t thank me until I’ve got answers.”

She put the bag in her pocket.

* * *

Leonard wasn’t a pacing kind of man. 

Pacing meant uncontrolled thoughts. It meant the inability to control one’s self. It exhibited a frustration and lack of calculation. It was for those who messed up and found no other way to vent their anger and guilt.

He wasn’t pacing. But it was a close thing.

Last night had been...disastrous, in so many ways.

He shouldn’t have suggested Sara come up, he shouldn’t have told her so much, he shouldn’t have allowed Adams in, and he definitely should not have…

He ran his hands over his head again, unable to focus on his computer.

Despite his late night, he hadn’t slept much. Or at all. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sara in his lap, felt her breath against his cheek, smelled the faint scent of the flowers she’d been wearing.

Every time he’d drifted off, he’d picked up where they left off, but every time, Sara got upset, accusing him of taking advantage and he’d snap back into consciousness, sick to his stomach.

Logically, save his first invitation upstairs, the other things he’d done had been the only option at the time. He couldn’t have Sara kill Werner or have him breaking his contract, not without Adams or another vulture trying to swoop in. He had to tell her the truth, because she’d been hellbent on figuring it out and had known more than he’d anticipated. Enough to know if he’d been lying. And as for Adams coming up...he had done the only thing he could.

That didn’t make it right.

Oh, she hadn’t argued or complained, but he’d just explained that Adams would have killed everyone she cared about. What other choice did she have? They’d been backed into a corner, and though it was the best move, the only move that kept them all alive, it had been at a cost.

Leonard went still, the phrase jarring something.

His father used to use “backed into a corner” to justify what he did as necessary. The only choice he had. Leonard absently rubbed his shoulder, the scar tissue from when his father had shot him as a distraction from the cops still thick and aching with the change in weather. That had been one of times his father had been backed into a corner.

If there was anything Leonard could tell himself to make him feel like something more than a criminal, it was that he wasn’t like his father.

Maybe he was more like him than he thought.

Even if he had, however briefly, hoped his evening would end up with Sara up in his apartment, he never wanted it to happen like it had.

Leonard was not a good man. Even without the fake reputation he’d built, he had a past that made him the furthest thing from a good man. But there were lines he wouldn’t cross. And last night had felt far too much like dancing across that line.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it instinctively.

**I’ve got a class today. I’ll be there in 10.**

Leonard picked up the phone, staring for a long moment. He wouldn’t cancel her classes, not now. If she could pretend like nothing had happened, he owed it to her to do the same. That didn’t mean things wouldn’t be changing. He typed out a calm response he didn’t entirely feel and sent it back.  **I have work to do. Just clean up.**

**Always do** . A few moments went by and another text arrived.  **Are we good?**

**We’re fine** , he sent, not entirely sure that was true, but willing to pretend until it was.

She didn’t answer back.

Leonard busied himself during her class by heading to the garage. It was off the loading dock, out of the way. He had a small, but functional gym Mick used several times a week in the back, and his car near the front. Giving his car a tune up wasn’t strictly necessary, but it kept him occupied. He and Sara had gotten too close, and even if he was willing to tell her the truth to keep her from doing something stupid, it didn’t mean he was willing to let it all happen again. He needed distance. He needed space. He needed the lines drawn between them again if he was going to take down Adams and the rest of his crew without getting anyone else hurt.

His phone buzzed as he was finishing up, and Leonard wiped the grease off his fingers before glancing at it.

**Don’t forget, boss. I need the signed timesheets today. -Z**

He had forgotten. But they were up in his office. Ignoring the voice in his head that called him a coward, he checked the log of his door.

Sara had been in after her class, and had left five minutes ago.

Feeling slightly calmer, he proceeded up to his place to shower and grab the paperwork. It wasn’t like he was going to avoid Sara forever, he was just...taking precautions. He’d been stupid enough to break his rules for her several times already. He wouldn’t make those mistakes again.

Stripping off the jeans and sweater he’d been wearing, he jumped in the shower, getting rid of the rest of the grease and trying to wake up a bit more to make it through the night. He got out, drying off and wrapping a towel around his hips as he strode into his bedroom-

Just in time for Sara to walk through the bedroom door.

She saw him and froze, staring, then wrenched her gaze to the side, “Fuck, sorry, I just, I forgot my phone.”

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice a lot calmer than he thought it would be.

She grabbed it from the bathroom counter, where he’d missed seeing it, and hesitated in the door. Her eyes kept wandering back to him as they stood in awkward silence, Leonard uncomfortably aware of the skin and scars on display. He didn’t look at her, not wanting to see the pity, not again, and picked out his suit for the evening as she chewed her lip.

He’d only looked briefly, but her tight black pants left little to the imagination. The tank top left her shoulders exposed and if he focused, he could still taste her skin on his tongue, something floral and metallic. He glared into his dresser, cursing his memory.

“I should have knocked,” she said quietly finally.

“It’s fine, Lance.” Her surname came out, classic Snart defense, and she made a tiny sound, drawing his gaze.

Her smile was forced, something like regret in her aspect. “I’ll see you downstairs, then. Boss.” She turned away from him and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

And just like that, the lines were drawn again. The distance established.

He didn’t feel relieved.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin makes a discovery or two.  
> Sara decides to make Leonard listen.  
> The idiots actually talk.

S.T.A.R. Labs was, oddly enough, quiet.

Caitlin leaned back in her chair, stretching her muscles. It was a Monday, but with the holidays, Cisco had opted to take a couple days off with his family and Harry had been out of town visiting his daughter, Jesse, at college. He’d be back tomorrow, so Caitlin was taking the opportunity to use the quiet lab to follow through with her favor to Sara. With Christmas just a couple days away, she wanted this done with before the new year, and this might be her only chance to be here alone.

She’d never been very close to her mother, not after her father had died, and though she and Ronnie had hosted a few holiday festivities, she didn’t feel the inclination to do so now.

Sara was busy with work, and when she wasn’t she’d been oddly quiet, which was worrying for a variety of reasons. She knew Sara was still working on this drug, but something else had happened.

It had been at class last week, when Caitlin noticed that Snart wasn’t present. In fact, it had been three classes since she’d seen him. She exchanged a look with Iris, and they’d cornered Sara in the employee lounge as the rest of the students were leaving.

“Everything okay will tall, dark, and criminal?” Iris asked.

Sara’s smile was almost offensive in how pathetically false it was. “It’s fine.”

“He hasn’t been at the class in a while,” Caitlin observed. “Did something happen?”

Taking her hair out of her ponytail, Sara turned her back on them. “No.”

“Sara-” Iris started.

“Drop it, West.” Sara rarely said no to Iris, and the tone was something new entirely. 

Caitlin fidgeted by the door. “We’re just worried about you.”

Sara visibly forced herself to relax. “Everything is fine. There was a...misunderstanding. But it’s fine.”

They all knew that was a lie, but they let it be for the moment. Sara hadn’t been talking about work very often when she’d come home, and even when she did, Caitlin had noticed that Leonard’s name wasn’t mentioned nearly as often. A falling out? Possibly, but Caitlin had noticed how her expression would sometimes get a little softer and distant the few times she mentioned the owner. Maybe it had been bad timing. If they got a little push...

Putting aside thoughts of matchmaking for the moment, Caitlin refoused. The mass spectrometer in the corner was running analysis on the Vertigo, and Caitlin was reading through the information Sara had given her from Iris on the victims. It wasn’t light reading, and it didn’t have a ton of detail, but it was fascinating, despite the grisly nature.

Though all of them had been marked as dying from an overdose, and all had been found with the same bags, some had died from serotonin syndrome - high fevers and seizures - while others had died of heart failure, with severe muscle tears. She turned on some music and curled up on the couch with the files around her. In her leggings and S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt, she wasn’t her usual professional self, but she was technically on her day off.

The spectrometer beeped, but as Caitlin unfolded herself from the couch, Harrison entered.

“Harry,” she said, surprised, anxious. “I thought you were gone until tomorrow?”

He seemed just as startled to have found her here. “I was, but Jesse had...plans.”

Caitlin gathered her folders, trying to subtly hide some of her research. “What kind of plans?”

“Apparently she met a boy, and would rather spend time with him than with me.”

Unable to hide her smile, Caitlin met his eyes. “She’s growing up, Harry. You can’t be the only man in her life forever.”

“I’m sure I could be. It isn’t impossible.”

She laughed, holding her files to her chest as she crossed over to her bag, resting on the console.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Harrison said, putting his bag down. “I was...just coming to pick up some papers I’d left.”

“You’re fine. I’m done as it is.”

He wandered over to the machines, his eyes on the monitors. “If you’re done, then, we could get dinner, since I was so unceremoniously thrown out of Jesse’s place.”

“Sure,” she said, putting the files in her bag, her back to him. “What were you thinking? Chinese or-”

“Methylenedioxymethamphetamine?”

Caitlin froze, then turned slowly, seeing Harrison at the mass spectrometer, reviewing the readouts. He arched a brow at her. “Is there a reason you’ve put ecstasy in the spectrometer?”

The question and implications behind it were lost as Caitlin frowned, her hands pulling out the files. “That can’t be right...not entirely. MDMA doesn’t affect the thalamus like this. But obviously Vertigo...”

She felt Harrison come up behind her, reaching over her shoulder to take the file out of her hand. “What are you up to, Snow?”

Turning, Caitlin found herself pinned between the console and Harrison, his gaze suspicious, but not angry. She felt a blush on her cheeks, plucking at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I’m...helping Sara with one of her cases.”

That got a reaction out of him, and not the one she was expecting. His brows drew together. “Is that why she was hurt the other month? She should know better than to have involved you-”

Angry on behalf of her friend, and indignant of the thought that anyone knew better than Caitlin on what she should do, she glared up at Harrison, ignoring the significant height difference, and snatched the folder back out of his hand. “I will get involved in whatever I want, Harrison Wells.”

“Snow-”

“No. I’m trying to help people. And if it’s a little...delinquent,” she decided, “it’s better than not doing anything.”

He raised his hand, but let it drop. “I’m just concerned about you.”

“I can take care of myself.” She ignored him and turned around, shoving her stuff into her bag.

“I know that,” he insisted, coming up behind her, his hands on her elbows. “I’m just - I want you to be safe. Drugs and those they draw are never safe.”

“I’ve done a lot of dangerous things in my life,” she said, refusing to turn around and still angry. “At least this one will help people.”

Harrison’s hands dropped, and he stepped back.

Caitlin suddenly realized what he might have thought she was talking about, and turned around. “I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, Snow,” he said, sounding resigned. “You’re right. I’m sorry for getting involved.”

“Harry-”

“It’s fine. I should get home,” he interrupted gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harrison stepped away from her, picking up his bag, a small pile of folders, and heading out the door.

Caitlin stared after him, and thought that maybe this was worse than losing her job after all.

* * *

“Thanks, Caitlin,” Sara said, hanging up the phone.

Though it sounded like her roommate had a lot more than she admitted to on her mind, Sara filed that away for later, focusing instead on what Caitlin had discovered about Vertigo and the victims. Add that to the files Iris had produced and locations of the bodies, and she had a good chunk of the information Leonard had been looking for.

Now, if only she could get him to listen to her long enough for her to share it.

The first couple of days right after the...incident had been tense, but they’d found their footing. Sara didn’t linger in his apartment and he seemed to have more than perfect luck in avoiding her before and after class, save that first day. She’d figured his lock had some kind of recording system on it, but now she was certain.

But slowly over the past few weeks, they’d been falling back into their old routine. Leonard still kept away when it was just her, but he stopped by before opening to check in, and pick up the drinks she still made him. They would still talk about work and laugh about Mick’s stories. They were almost back to what they had been before...whatever it was had almost happened.

The only tense moment, aside from Sara walking in on a half-naked Leonard (and that image had yet to leave her), was when she stopped him before opening that same day.

“Hey, boss?” she said. “Thanks for the rides home, but I’ll take it from here.”

He hesitated, just for a moment, then nodded. “Of course.”

And that had been that. Sometimes she and Zari shared an Uber, sometimes Sara called her own, and sometimes, she walked. But no one needed to know.

She still loved Gaudia, and had been planning for the next theme night, but the past two weeks, she felt like she’d lost something. Something she hadn’t really had, not truly. But the...opportunity for something. The chance.

It felt like something important.

Sara didn’t find time to catch Leonard alone until two days later, as they were cleaning up. She’d been on edge; the crowds had been more riled than usual, and she had to go and break up a fight between a group of guys on the stage, as Mick was handling a few mouthy assholes at the front doors. Sara’s group had nearly taken out Charlie’s stage, and they’d knocked Zari to the ground. Sara saw red at that point.

She jumped over the bar, sliding across the top to lay two of them out cold with one move, knocking down a third when he didn’t take the hint and suckerpunched her. Standing over them, Sara glared at the others, her hip cocked and her brow arched.

“Make a move or get out,” Sara growled.

The others hesitated, glaring at her.

Sara smiled.

One of them spat on the ground, and then they turned to leave. As they left, Sara saw Ray and Leonard standing behind them, both tense as they waited for the guys to make a move.

They didn’t. More the pity for her. The fight had been too quick and too unsatisfying. That might have been part of the reason why she’d decided that Leonard would listen to her tonight or she’d make him. No excuses.

When he came up to the bar later, carrying a few discarded glasses, Sara caught his eye.

“We need to talk after.”

He nodded, half-heartedly, already moving away.

“Boss,” Sara said firmly, drawing his gaze. “I mean it.”

Leonard met her gaze then, understanding. “After.” He glanced at her mouth. “You’re bleeding.”

Sara wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, rolling her eyes as she washed it away. By the time she looked up, he was gone.

They locked up, and gathered in the lounge, Sara making sure Zari was okay after her fall.

“Maybe I should start coming to your class,” Zari muttered, examining the bruise on her arm.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Charlie grinned at them, slinging her arms over their shoulders. “Me an’ Ray were both considering it.”

“I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, though,” Ray said, his eyes wide. “I know a lot of your students have...concerns about men. If it would upset them-”

“It might,” Sara said honestly. “But it’s good for them to meet good guys. And you’re a good guy.” She glanced at Mick, who was suspiciously quiet. “Might be helpful to have you there, too.”

He frowned. “Me?”

“They only get to practice on one another, and most guys are bigger than them. If they can throw you or get you to let go-”

He snorted, but Sara saw a speculative look in his eye, so she let it go for the moment. They all filed out, while Sara begged off to use the restroom and told them she’d see them tomorrow. Once the door shut and it was quiet, Sara stepped out of the bathroom and went upstairs to Leonard’s apartment.

She hadn’t been in here with him since the day after their...whatever it was. And honestly, she still hadn’t shaken the image of shirtless Leonard. He had more muscle than she expected, and she was beginning to think he was hiding a gym somewhere in the building. His scars made her thoughts about his reluctance of physical touch seem all the more accurate, and though she didn’t find them distracting or unattractive, she could understand his hesitation in showing skin. She’d had to overcome the same things with her own scars. His towel hadn’t obscured much and the v of his hips had been a constant in Sara’s dreams since then.

The lack of closeness was frustrating. Not just what they might have had, but because she felt like they were friends. They got along. He understood her, even without knowing everything, and vice versa. She enjoyed spending time with him, and now…she missed that companionship. She missed him.

She knocked as she unlocked the door, giving him a heads up. She head his voice telling her to come in, so she did, shutting the door behind her.

He was already sitting down in an armchair, the next closest piece of furniture several feet away. Thoughtful.

Carrying her backpack over, she put it on the floor next to her, taking out the folder she’d been compiling. Leonard was watching her carefully, his eyes half hooded and distant.

“What’s on your mind, Lance?”

She had thought this over several times, and though she wasn’t the planner he seemed to be, she knew she held the cards here.

“I have information on Adams.”

A spark of interest, and surprise, flickered through his eye, as if that wasn’t what he thought she wanted to talk about. “How?”

“You aren’t the only one with connections.”

That almost got a smirk out of him.

“I’ve got locations of bodies. I’ve got some info on where they were before. I’ve got causes of death, and I know what the drug is.”

“I’m impressed,” he said quietly. “But why do I think there’s a catch to this?”

Sara drew in a breath. “I want Adams and Vertigo off the streets. You want to save Gaudia. You know about Adams’s side, and I can get the other information you need.” She didn’t mention her occupation, though it had been a thought. She was on shaky enough ground here as it was, she couldn’t risk it. “If I give you this, we figure it out together. You don’t do anything without me, and vice versa, or no deal.”

It was fair. Better than she wanted it to be. But she would hold to it, and for all his posturing, he cared about the club and the employees and that included her, so-

“No.”

“Great, I-” Sara froze, staring at him. “Wait, what?”

“No. I don’t want you involved in it.” He said it so flippantly, and for some reason, that made her furious.

“Are you seriously this stupid?”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you this reckless? I told you what Adams is capable of.”

“Which is why we need to get him off the streets as soon as possible!” She put the folder back in her bag, zipping it up.

“I’ve been working on this for months-”

“And gotten nowhere. I have more information than you managed to get in months.”

“I’ll manage.” He got to his feet. “Have a good evening.”

He was dismissing her like he had Adams? He was dismissing  _ her _ ?

Hell, no.

Sara was on her feet in a second, fury burning away the sympathy left in her. She was here, trying to make this work for the good of everyone else, but he was so damn stubborn.

“Look here, Snart, I’m tired of this martyr bullshit.” She took two steps forward, and he turned, not showing any concern as she approached. “You’ve done a great job alienating yourself so no one gets hurt, but you’ve worn that line out and gotten nowhere. So you’re going to have to change up your shit.”

His smile was cold, and he walked across the room, Sara on his heels.

“You’ve been here three months and think you know better than me?” he asked, his brow cocked as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve been in this career longer than you’ve been alive-”

“Yeah, you’re fucking old, so what?” she interrupted, finally seeing a mark of anger on his face - either the age comment or interrupting him, she wasn’t sure. “You’ve got nothing in terms of information and you’re turning away your best source because you think you can get it some other way? How, Snart? How are you going to get it?”

He bent to place his glass on the low table in the middle of the room, then straightened.

“I just did.”

Her bag was in his hand.

“Motherfu-” Sara lunged for it, but he sidestepped her, faster than she expected. She twisted mid-movement, grabbing the strap.

They stared at one another and for a moment, Sara was looking in on the situation from the outside:

Leonard, the calm, collected club owner with a dark past.

Sara, the former assassin turned PI vigilante.

Playing tug-of-war over a backpack.

This was so stupid.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lance,” Leonard said, his grip on the bag tight as he stepped back, dragging her with him. “You don’t need to be involved.”

“I’m already involved, you asshole.” She turned, pulling the bag forward, and getting it under her arm. Leonard still had a hand on the strap that went under her arm, but she had her back to him, the bag tucked against her chest. “Stop being such a jerk and let me help.”

“And you stop being so reckless and stay out of things that don’t concern you.” He pulled the bag slightly, and she tensed, wondering if she’d have to really use force to make him let go.

“Are you really this childish?” Sara snapped at him.

“Make up your mind, am I old or a child?” he retorted, his voice thin with anger. His free hand landed on her shoulder, pushing her, too gently to do much, but making it clear he wouldn’t just relinquish the bag.

“Right now, you’re just fucking annoying,” she muttered.

“Adams is dangerous.”

“Good thing I’m used to dangerous things,” Sara retorted, planting her feet.

Leonard cursed under his breath, pulling more insistently on the backpack. “If you think the meeting with Adams was the worst that could happen-”

“That was a fucking cakewalk,” Sara said, before she remembered that it hadn’t been for him. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but isn’t that proof that you need me? So I can help when you can’t-”

Leonard let go of the strap, and Sara nearly stumbled from the sudden lack of pulling against the bag. She shifted the bag behind her as she turned, staring at Leonard and trying to figure out what game he was playing.

“You thought…” he said quietly, then scoffed, and crossed the living room, completely ignoring the bag and going to the bar in the corner and pouring himself a drink.

Sara’s eyes narrowed as she watched him throw back the measure of whiskey, and pour another one before turning around.

“I was uncomfortable,” he said. “But not because of you.”

“Oh.” She really wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. “Well...same.”

The frown started between his eyes again and he leaned against the bar. “I used you.”

She shrugged. “I know. But so what? I mean, it wasn’t ideal, but I still liked…” she trailed off, suddenly awkward. “But after, it was weird, so I thought you just wanted to forget about it.”

“I didn’t. I would have preferred not to have Adams there, but I thought you-”

“I didn’t.” Didn’t matter what thought, he’d probably been wrong. “I had been on my way up here, before everything, after all.”

“And I had invited you up.”

Sara inclined her head, acknowledging their mutual misinterpretation. Despite clearing the air, there was still a sense of tension between them. Now that they both knew they hadn’t been upset, the potential for something to happen seemed attainable.

Maybe she hadn’t lost her chance.

Leonard stared at her for a long, long moment, and Sara dug deeply into her training to remain still under his gaze. Finally, he blinked and looked out the window.

“Adams is dangerous. He uses people against one another. As moles or collateral.” He poured out another glass of whiskey, taking it and carrying it over to her slowly. “We’re fighting an uphill battle, and we can’t give him anything else to use against us.”

She heard the meaning beneath his words. There was something here, and it was mutual, but it would have to wait until after Adams was dealt with.

She could work with that. Probably.

“Does that mean you’re taking my deal?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.

“Partners, Lance. That means you tell me what you’re up to.”

“Right back at you, Snart. It’s me and you together, or not at all.”

“Deal,” he said, lifting his glass. “Me and you.”

Clinking her glass against his, Sara met his eyes, the blue fixated on her. His slight smirk held a lot more than the promise of a partnership, and she realized that if she’d been thinking about that night for weeks, he might have been, too. Maybe he’d been thinking of what would have happened had they not been interrupted, and she’d already seen his capacity for...creativity.

They both drank their liquor, eyes never leaving one another’s.

As if she needed more motivation to get rid of Adams as fast as possible.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara's class has some guest stars.  
> Caitlin gets a ride home.  
> Len shows off some...skills.

He wasn’t certain how this had happened.

One minute, he’d been sitting at the bar as Sara conducted her class, the rest of his staff present for the first time. The next-

“What about an actual fight, Sara?” her student Julian asked. He was a larger kid, and though Leonard had watched him master all the defensive moves, it was clear he was here to learn how to keep people from bothering him.

Taking a moment to grab a drink, Sara glanced at Julian. “Gonna end up in a fistfight?”

“Maybe. Can you show me?”

Zari smiled, “If it’s anything like the guys at the club, I don’t doubt it.”

“Good thing we’ve got her around,” Charlie added, winking at Mick to take the sting out of her tease.

“Snart used to throw punches with the best of ‘em,” Mick said, his conscious effort to keep his arms from being crossed and his voice calmer noted by Leonard, if not the others. “You should’ve seen him in his prime.”

“Bet it’s been a while.” Charlie grinned back at the bar where he was sitting. “Ain’t that right, Snart?”

He merely glared at her, which had zero effect.

“Come on,” Ray grinned. “Why don’t you show us if you’ve still got it, Captain?”

Leonard shook his head, ignoring him.

Mick snorted. “He’s just scared he’ll lose to Blondie.”

That earned a darker glare, but Leonard saw Sara smiling behind him, a teasing, impish smile as she cocked her hip to the side. Mick’s comment faded as Sara watched him, and before she even opened her mouth, he knew it was too late.

“Come on, boss. If you knock me down first, no more flowers.”

The staff grinned, far too familiar with every foolish bet that had occurred between Sara and Leonard regarding her attire, and knowing he had yet to win. Not that he really minded.

Leonard stood and removed his jacket.

Amid the hoots and hollers of his former friends, he rolled up the cuffs of his shirt to give him a little more movement, toed off his shoes, and stepped onto the mat. Sara, making sure they were on even footing, kicked off her sneakers, and circled around to face him.

“Will this be street rules?” Ray asked.

“Like you’ve ever been in a street fight,” Charlie muttered.

“Hey, I’ve...seen  _ West Side Story _ .”

Zari laughed and started snapping her fingers, and the others joined in. Sara grinned at him. “First one on the mat loses.”

He’d seen her fight. He knew he was screwed. 

“Deal.”

Knowing that he’d only have a short amount of time to maintain whatever bit of dignity he could, Leonard moved first, feinting left before going right, his fist coming up towards Sara’s ribs.

He had a brief thought to pull the punch, but she was grinning too widely for him to be that worried about it.

She knocked his arm aside, much like he thought she would, so he dropped, trying to sweep her feet. Sara jumped and rolled, coming up next to him and grabbing his arm.

He twisted away from her grasp, grabbing her wrist.

She grabbed his other hand, then twisted, wrapping his arm around her as she put her back to his front.

Leonard felt her smile-

And then he flew over her shoulder as she knelt and hurled him onto the mat, kneeling next to his head.

“Sorry, boss,” she said, still grinning.

“No, you’re not,” he retorted once he got his breath back.

She laughed, and the slight ache in his shoulder vanished. Sara bounced to her feet, and stood next to him to help him up.

Leonard swung his arm out, knocking her legs out from underneath her. Sara landed on the ground next to him in a huff. Turning her head, her glare was slightly ruined by the laughter and clapping around them.

“Dirty trick,” she muttered at him, her smile pulling at her lips.

“Crook,” he reminded her under his breath.

She laughed, and with a shake of her head, got to her feet and, with a narrowing of her eyes, offered a hand to him. He took it, dropping her fingers quickly.

Leonard endured Mick and Ray’s teasing as Sara slowly showed Julian, Zari, and Charlie how she got out of his grip. That ate up the rest of the class, and everyone began to disperse, Leonard heading upstairs to change shirts and Sara on his heels.

“So, we’ve hit a bit of a snag,” she said, heading into his bathroom.

“With what?” he asked, laying his jacket on the bed.

The water started, and she shut the door partway, leaving it open a crack as she continued talking. “I checked with Iris yesterday, and she said not only will the morgue not release the autopsies, she’s hit a wall with her sources. None of them are going to help us out. Doyle’s been threatening everyone left and right about releasing information and they’re all scared.”

Leonard unbuttoned his shirt, his brows drawing together. Sara had shared Caitlin’s concerns that there were two drugs on the market, despite what the police were saying, based on the varied causes of death, but they couldn’t confirm that without an autopsy, nor would they get any hints about what the victims had been doing prior to death. “Can we request the files from the morgue?”

Sara’s voice was muffled for a moment. “Not unless you’re a close relative, with documented proof of relationship with the deceased. And it has to be in writing, and it takes weeks, and it’s sometimes denied anyway.” Her voice echoed slightly and the water stream was interrupted.

Taking a clean shirt from his closet, he reapplied deodorant before sliding it over his shoulders. “So we go look at the files for ourselves.”

“They cops are never going to show us,” Sara argued.

“Not the cops, the morgue. They have copies.”

“We’re just going to walk in and ask?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, doing up the buttons on his shirt.

She was silent for a few moments, then the water shut off. “What are you proposing?”

He straightened his cuffs, fixing the buttons on those. “City morgue moved from CCPD headquarters three years ago. Nothing more than a few rent-a-cops and a decent security system. I’m proposing a...nighttime visit.”

“And looking for what?” Sara asked, a zipper pulling open as she went into her bag.

“Not sure. But if we take photos, the good doctor might see something.” He grabbed his jacket, pulling it on once again and smoothing the sleeves down.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Perhaps. But I’m done waiting.” He smiled faintly at his reflection, deciding that action looked good on him.

“If you get caught, you’ll be in trouble.”

He glanced at the door in a reflex, the slight opening revealing a portion of the mirror. Sara was standing in front of it, just a grey towel wrapped carelessly around her torso and her hair in tangles around her bare shoulders. She held a brush in her hand, but it was at her side as she frowned at her reflection, worry between her eyes.

“They won’t catch me.”

“What if they do?” she asked, her worry obvious in her voice now.

“They won’t,” he said, cursing himself as the words came out a little softer than he’d meant. Clearing his throat, he added, “I was the city’s best thief, remember? Old habits die hard.”

She smiled at his voice, looking down and fidgeting with the handle of the brush before running it through her hair. “You sure you’ve still got the moves? It’s been a while.”

“Not that long,” he argued, a little too quickly. “Besides, there’s something to be said for...experience.”

Sara grinned at that, catching her lip between her teeth. “I’m sure there is,” she said, her own voice getting a little softer. “Can’t wait.”

"Speaking of moves," he said, curiosity getting the better of him. "Where'd you learn yours?'

Her smile faded slightly. "I've had training."

"Training to do what?"

Her gaze left her reflection, wandering about on the floor. "To hurt people. To kill them."

He knew he should have been shocked by her words, and maybe a small part of him was. But he'd seen the way she moved, the way she took on men twice her size with no fear. He had figured military training or revolutionary type of work. God knew his background check on her had turned up nothing more than a few old addresses, her police record, and father's commendations. Now she was admitting she'd basically been an assassin, and it just kind of made sense. It's not like his past was bloodless. Or Mick's. Or Zari's. Or Ray's, shockingly enough. It wasn't his place to judge what had been, only what was now. And she'd proven that she would throw herself into any fight to protect them.

Her expression was still hesitant, and he realized he'd been quiet for some time now. He made sure his tone was light. "Guess I should be glad you let me get in a swing at all."

She smiled faintly. "I didn't want to damage your pride."

"I'm hardly so easily damaged."

She laughed, the ease restored.  Putting the brush aside, she grabbed the edge of the towel and-

Leonard looked away. “I’ll see you-”

“I had a question.”

He paused in his walk to the door, but didn’t look. “Yeah?”

“Adams already saw us together. Or so he thought. Why is it still dangerous?”

“There is a chance he already believes that we’re...involved,” he admitted. But, far more likely, he believes that I was merely taking advantage of a drugged out girl,” he said that last part bitterly, and was unsurprised at her follow-up question.

“Why would he think that?”

“Because it’s what he does.”

“Bastard,” Sara muttered.

“Adams is under the impression that his disdain for women is a common feeling. So when he sees others acting in a way that could be interpreted as what he would do, that’s what he tends to believe is fact,” Leonard explained. That was one of the many, many reasons he hated Adams.

“I can’t wait to get rid of him.”

“You and me both.”

* * *

On Thursday, Caitlin stared at the belated winter downpour from the front door of S.T.A.R. Labs, cocking her head to the side with a resigned sigh. Her pocket umbrella would help, but it was a long walk to the bus stop, and another walk home. She was doomed to wet stockings and cold feet.

Cisco had left earlier, and Caitlin regretted not taking the ride he’d offered before leaving. But it hadn’t been raining yet, and she had work to catch up on. In addition to her usual demands, she’d been trying to help Sara by digging further into the causes of death, but there wasn’t much information to go off of. There was something odd about the Vertigo, but she couldn’t quite place it. She also didn’t feel entirely comfortable asking her coworkers for advice, considering Harry’s response last time.

Still, none of that helped her current predicament.

Opening her umbrella, she stepped out into the rain, no sense in putting it off. She tried to keep positive, but she hit two puddles before she reached the main sidewalk, and it didn’t bode well.

She was barely to the corner when a car pulled up alongside her, the window rolling down.

She frowned, glancing inside to see Harry leaning across the seat. “Get in, Snow.”

“No, it’s okay-”

“Just get in,” he sighed.

Thunder boomed and drowned out her reply, so she gave in, the awkward shuffle of trying to get in the car while closing her umbrella lasting a little longer than usual. Finally, she was seated in the car, and the door was closed.

Tucking her wet hair behind her ear, she smiled at Harry. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said, his eyes on the road.

Caitlin wiped the water off her hands, “The bus stop is just at this corner, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s pouring, Snow. Let me drive you home.”

The invitation wasn’t that new. Cisco and Harry had often offered to drive her, but she was comfortable with walking and with the quiet, most times. She liked to have that time to herself. Cisco had given up, except for rainy or snowy days, but Harry still offered at least three times a week. Caitlin had given in once or twice, both because of rain. This would be no different.

“Thank you,” she said again.

He was good with directions, and didn’t ask her which way it was, not after the first time he took her home, so they fell into silence. It was fine, for the most part, but Caitlin began to shift slightly, guilt still niggling at her from the other day. She finally found her voice at the same time Harry tried to talk.

“How’s the case go-”

“I wanted to apologize-”

They both broke off, Harry scoffing quietly and Caitlin smiling, then he gestured for her to go first.

“I wanted to say sorry for the other day. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just...frustrated.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he said. “I shouldn’t have tried to tell you what to do. You’re smart and capable, and don’t need me butting in.”

Though the sentiment was something Caitlin was aware he held, hearing the actual words were more flattering than she expected. “I always want your advice, Harry. I just didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it.”

He hummed quietly in agreement, and Caitlin considered the other reason she had been so uncomfortable the past couple of days. Now was a good a time as any.

“Are you still...upset with me?” she asked, watching his profile.

Harry frowned, cutting his eyes over at her. “I was never upset with you.”

“But you were mad and then you left-”

“I…” Harry interrupted her, but then paused, familiar enough with her to know that when interrupted, she would just talk louder over the interrupter - usually Cisco. Caitlin waved for him to go ahead. “I wasn’t mad, Snow. I was...an idiot. Instead of offering help, I passed judgment. Which is hypocritical to say the least, considering anything you could do would merely be a drop in my incredibly large lake of sins.”

At the melancholy tone, Caitlin reached across and touched his arm. “You know I think you’re amazing, right?”

He scoffed, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“Mistakes happen, Harry,” she continued. This conversation was nothing new to either of them. Despite the time that had elapsed since the explosion, all of them had their bad days; Harry most of all. “We checked the data again and again, everything was within normal parameters. We took every precaution we could. All of us were on board. What happened was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“I designed it,” he said.

“And we built it, and we ran the theories and simulations, and we calculated the odds and the ramifications. We are all responsible together, which means this isn’t just on you.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand tightly, then took his away, letting her hand slide off of his arm. Her skin seemed to tingle slightly, but she kept her eyes on him.

“Thank you. But I should have offered to help from the very first. I trust your judgment far more than I trust my own.”

Caitlin smiled at the praise again, then bit her lip. “So, if I ask for your help with Sara’s case…”

“I’m here for anything you need, Snow,” Harry promised.

“Good, because it’s been driving me crazy not bouncing theories off of you,” she sighed in relief.

He chuckled, and the tension in the car was gone. “Tell me what you have so far.”

The conversation last lasted long past the drive to her apartment. They sat in the car for another hour afterwards, talking through what she had discovered so far and her potential theories.

Harry seemed as surprised as she was when the looked at the clock and realized it was almost ten.

“Oh gosh,” Caitlin said, gathering her things. “I’m so sorry. I’ve kept you here-”

“It’s not a problem,” he assured her, his faint smile still visible from the console.

The rain was still coming down, harder than before. Caitlin sighed, getting her umbrella ready.

“It’s supposed to rain all week,” Harry said.

“Great,” she muttered. Boots it was.

“Am I going to have to fight you every day?”

Caitlin turned, frowning as she tried to decipher the question.

“To allow me to drive you home.”

“Oh.” She blushed as she realized how obvious that was. “I’m really fine-”

“Snow.”

Had he always said her name like that? Low and dark and...maybe it was just the rain. Or the late hour. But he was staring at her and-

“I would be grateful for a ride home,” she replied eventually.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Then, this is goodnight, Doctor Snow.”

“Goodnight, Doctor Wells.”

She hadn’t meant for her voice to emulate his, dropping a little, with a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth. This almost felt like...flirting. With Harry?

Escaping the car, Caitlin took a deep breath, unfiltered, with no hint of Harry’s cologne. Still, the feeling in the pit of her stomach and the tingling of her hand didn’t fade, and as she approached the door, she glanced behind. Harry was still sitting at the curb, making sure she got inside okay. She waved, and he smiled back, pulling away from the corner, and Caitlin watched him drive off, that little smile reappearing on her lips. She shook it away the second she realized, then headed upstairs to her apartment.

She needed a glass of wine.

A big one.

* * *

Sara had to admit - Leonard was good.

Not, after reading his cases and newspaper articles, that she expected anything different. But reading was one thing, seeing a completely different one.

He was running this whole job, and Sara had let him take the lead, to organizing transportation, to timing, to an alibi. She followed his instructions, and that’s how the two of them ended up outside Central City morgue at eleven-thirty on a rainy Thursday.

They’d taken a circuitous route to get there, doubling back several times, and Sara was slowly putting together how Captain Cold had managed to get in and out of so many places unseen. His attention to detail, his intense focus, his ability to be so still and quiet...he seemed perfectly designed to do exactly this.

And from the smirk on his face as he worked, he knew it.

They’d changed just after leaving Gaudia, Sara exchanging her heels for a functional pair of boots and a black jacket to cover her flowered top. Leonard had disappeared for a moment, the suit vanishing and replaced with dark jeans, boots, and a black sweater. Sara had been momentarily speechless, but fell into step behind him, the rain making conversation difficult.

It was the matter of just a couple seconds for him to cut the security to the morgue, leaving everything else functioning. He passed Sara a small flashlight, and led the way to the back door, where they received the bodies.

Holding the flashlight steady, Sara watched Leonard removed a few small pieces of metal from his pocket, then insert them into the lock. He moved quickly, his head cocked slightly as if he was listening to something she couldn’t hear over the patter of raindrops.

There was a barely audible click as the door unlocked and Leonard collected his picks.

“Think you can teach me how to do that?” Sara whispered.

He glanced down at her with a smile, then proceeded into the hallway, his footsteps almost silent on the tile.

As the bodies had been incinerated weeks prior, there was no point in going into the morgue proper. They just had to reach the records room, which had far less security, according to Leonard’s information. Which made very little sense to Sara - people were far more likely to steal information than a body, right? The circumstances in which that might not be true were too weird to consider, so she stopped that train of thought immediately.

Luckily for them, the records room was on the same floor as the autopsy room. The morgue had digital files, which were what they used more often and shared with the police and public, but paper copies of all the original autopsies and findings were kept, too.

The records room was down one long hallway, which was a stressful stretch of hallway to get through. Leonard had told her the cameras wouldn’t catch them, and the security shift wouldn’t come down for another ten minutes, which gave them enough time to get in, find the files associated with Gaudia, take the pictures, and get out.

Sara had memorized the three names she would look for - Monica Carpenter, Marcus Jimenez, Ushi Lam. Ushi was the girl Sara hadn’t been able to…

The sound of a file cabinet opening had her glancing over, but Leonard moved swiftly, grabbing the two files he’d been looking for - Jason Shannon and Ira Suri.

It took her a little longer to find what she needed, but Sara had the files out and opened them up, taking pictures and skimming quickly. They could analyze more later - now, it was just about getting the information and getting out.

Even just with skimming, it was obvious something was off. All three of her cases were deemed death by overdose, and the bags photographed were the same ones Sara had found, but Sara saw both of the things Caitlin had been talking about - serotonin syndrome and cardiac arrest with muscle tears. If it was the same, why were people dying in different ways?

She flipped the next page over, and saw a picture of Marcus’s body.

Sara inhaled, staring down at him. He looked young. Younger, in fact, than the pictures Michaela had given her made him out to be. He didn’t deserve this.

“Lance, you alright?” Leonard whispered, returning his files to the cabinets.

“Yeah.” She snapped the picture, then made to close the file, noticing a note on the margin of the papers.

_ Injection site on left arm. _

“Lance,” Leonard hissed.

She looked up, seeing the light from the security guard approaching. Quickly, she put the files back, sliding the cabinet shut as Leonard came over, grabbing her shoulder and guiding her to the back corner and behind a cabinet, out of sight of the guard’s sweep.

“In here,” he whispered, stepping back into a shadowy corner.

It was a tight fit, obviously meant for another file cabinet as opposed to two adults, and Leonard had to duck his head slightly to be completely obscured. He was looking behind her, and she resisted the urge to turn around and see what he was concerned about.

She saw the glow from a flashlight pass over the top of the cabinet, and Leonard moved without warning, snagging her waist and pulling her further back into the shadows as the light, presumably, shone where she hadn’t been concealed by the cabinet.

Leonard was, for lack of a better word, hugging her against him to keep them both in the shadows, his mouth next to her ear to keep his taller frame out of sight. Her hands were stuck between them, pressed against his chest.

Well aware that there was a security guard outside who, if he discovered them, could destroy everything they’d both been working for, Sara could only focus on Leonard’s arms around her, the quiet, steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her fingers, and the tentative warmth of the side of her cheek as he breathed.

There was a rattle as the guard checked the door, and Sara’s head jerked slightly towards the sound, her nose bumping Leonard’s jaw.

She reacted without thought, trying to step back to give him space, but he just held her tighter, keeping her from moving, with no other visible reaction.

Physically, however…

She felt his heart beat just a little faster.

Perhaps the urge came from a combination of everything - the months of smoldering attraction, the missed opportunities and close calls, the fact that this feeling was mutual, the adrenaline from breaking and entering, the fact that they were hiding in a dark corner, where neither one of them could speak or escape from…

Sara tilted her head slightly, then pressed her lips against Leonard’s throat, just above the collar of his ridiculously soft sweater.

He inhaled audibly, and his fingers flexed on her waist.

She moved slightly closer, knowing his back was against the wall behind him, grabbing two fistfulls of his sweater as she kissed his neck again, moving a little higher. Her nose brushed his jaw again, the tickle of stubble she could feel but not see, then her lips tasted the bitter tang of his aftershave. His heart jumped again below her fingers as her teeth scraped lightly against his jaw.

Whether this had been her idea or not, her own breath was coming a little louder now, lost in the dark around them.

One hand left her waist, moving up along her back until he cupped her cheek in his hand, tilting her face up towards his. She couldn’t see much in the shadows, not really, but even in the dark, she could see how dark his eyes were, the electric blue now just a thin ring around his eyes.

“Wicked,” he whispered against her lips, his thumb tracing the edge of her mouth.

She just smiled, her eyes sliding closed as he closed the short distance between them-

A slamming door made both of them jump, the guard having finishing his rounds downstairs and heading to the next floor. This was their opportunity to get out.

Slowly, Sara stepped back, and Leonard, just as reluctantly, it seemed, lowered his hands.

Sara grinned at the image he made, slouched against the wall, eyes still blown out.

“Come on. No rest for the wicked, right?” she said, her voice not sounding quite as calm as she’d hoped.

Leonard took a breath, pushing away from the wall and straightening his collar. “Let’s go.”

Sara grinned at his back as he took the lead again, the taste of him began to fade from her lips. For now.

* * *

 

Several hours later, Sara was climbing into bed. They’d made it back to Gaudia without further incident, closing down and cleaning up without anyone asking any questions. Sara hadn’t commented when Leonard showed up on the corner in his car.

The ride had been tense, but they barely spoke, and neither of them tried to continue Sara’s overture from earlier. So she merely grinned at him as she darted out into the rain on her doorstep, unlocking the door with alacrity and sliding in before he pulled away from the corner.

Sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed, Sara was brushing out her hair, braiding it up to keep the humidity from wreaking havoc on it during the night. Mid-braid, a wayward thought struck her, and before she could reconsider, she was on her feet, crossing the dark living room and knocking on Caitlin’s door.

“Cait?” she said. She knocked again before opening the door.

Caitlin was stirring in her bed, frowning as she sat up on her elbows. “Sara? What’s wrong?”

“On autopsies, when they’re recording things and they say left, is it the subject’s left or the doctor’s?” Sara asked. Caitlin seemed completely blindsided and Sara suddenly realized it was four in the morning, but she needed to know now. She tried to explain, “If someone was shot, and they wrote the gunshot was on the left, whose left?”

“Uhh…” Caitlin rubbed her eyes, sleep disturbing her normally speedy thinking. “Uh, the doctor’s left.”

“So if they say on the left arm, it would be my right?” Sara asked.

“Yeah. Yes.”

Sara turned on her heel, heading out.

Caitlin called after her, “Sara, what- what is going on?”

“What’s going on,” Sara said grimly, “is that Marcus was right handed.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A massive New Year party.

Leonard figured his luck was due to run out.

Gaudia was thriving, numbers were up, cops were backing off without having anything to hand around for, his staff was working efficiently, and Sara was…

He resisted the urge to smile, keeping his face blank as he looked across the bar.

Well.

But, that was too many good things happening at one time. So he was waiting, breath bated, for the other shoe to drop. So far, nothing had struck. Yet.

Tonight was Gaudia’s infamous Black Tie New Year’s Eve party, and though it was stressful to put on, it was one of the biggest and most successful parties in Central City. It grew every year. The line started at closing the night before, and grew to record levels. Charlie had found a live band, Ray was streaming all coverages of the New Year to coincide with the stroke of midnight here, and Mick had, as usual, acquired his terrifyingly large supply of fireworks to be set off above Gaudia at midnight.

Everyone was dressed to the nines and then some, tuxes and suits, ball gowns and evening dresses. The band was wonderful, upbeat swing music interspersed with Charlie’s usual when they took breaks, and the crowd was loving it. Her red ball gown was accented with black belts and silver chains, and her hair swept up in an impressive mohawk.

Zari strolled through the crowd, her gold gown drawing more gazes than usual, but her eyes fixed on her tablet, focused on keeping this night successful and safe. Ray kept checking in on her, the suit making the Boy Scout look more his age, as he darted around the floor, keeping fights from breaking out with smiles and drinks. Mick’s suit strained at his shoulders a little and Leonard doubted he would have the jacket on any longer, but he still did his job up front, keeping the crowds soothed and moving forward. Leonard donned his usual suit,  though his cufflinks were a bit nicer and the tiepin a touch of class. And Sara was exactly what he had come to expect.

Her black, slightly sheer gown brushed the floor, and all over, from the thin straps at the top to the hem, were embroidered flowers. There were a few in her hair, but she’d left it loose and flowing over her shoulders.

He had been prepared enough not to pause when seeing her this time, but it had been close.

Having staked out his seat early on, Leonard didn’t have to fight the crowds this time. His drink appeared too quickly for him to thank her, but Sara smiled when he caught her eye before refocusing on her work.

“This place is amazing, isn’t it?” a guy said to Leonard’s right.

Leonard glanced at him, unsure if he was speaking to him. He was.

The man to his right was grinning, a large glass almost empty in front of him. “I’ve been here a dozen times in the past month, at least! And it’s great!”

“Glad you think so,” Leonard said, sipping his glass.

The man next to him drained his drink, putting the glass down a little too hard. His cuffs were unbuttoned and the jacket too large for him. Sara came over just a second later, a quick smile for the man.

“Can I get you another one?” she asked, grabbing the empty glass.

“Yes! And you can also can get me your number.” The man leaned forward, grinning, his glasses crooked on his nose.

Leonard tensed, but Sara merely smiled.

“Sorry. Not interested.”

“But I’m a doctor,” he insisted.

“Congrats! Another?” Sara asked again.

“Yes!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the bar.

Sara filled up a glass, placing it in front of him, and holding out her hand for his card. “That’ll be-”

He snagged her hand, and Leonard put his glass down, but Sara was still smiling, her brow arched.

“Please,” he pleaded. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“Sorry, doc.” Sara pulled her hand away without a problem. “You’re gonna have to find someone else. But I’ll give you this drink on the house for the heartbreak.”

“I won’t forget you,” he said, grabbing his drink and standing on unsteady legs. “I’m gonna find you at midnight!”

Sara waved as he teetered off, then looked at Leonard.

“Do you give away drinks to all the men who ask you for your numbers?” he asked.

“No,” Sara grinned. “Usually just the women.”

He smiled, faintly. “And how many kisses have you been promised this evening?”

“A dozen or so.”

The cavalier response irked him, and he frowned into his glass. When he heard her laugh, he realized the misstep he’d made.

Sara was smiling at him. “Jealous?”

He merely took another sip of his drink, but her grin widened. She leaned on the bartop, her hair falling over her shoulder. “Because if you were, the solution is easy.”

“Is it?” Leonard asked, intrigued despite himself.

“Of course it is,” she said.

Her grin was reminiscent of the records room, slow and dark, and Leonard felt his body react to her expression alone. He arched a brow, and she took that as the question it was.

“You’ll just have to make sure I’m busy at midnight.”

That was a thought.

Leonard lowered his glass. “Well, maybe I’ll see you at midnight.”

“Looking forward to it.” She gave him one last little smile before turning back to man the bar. The grins and glances she was giving the others were very different from the ones she gave him.

He hoped his luck would hold just a little longer.

* * *

Sara’s phone was blowing up with notifications from friends and family, wishing her a happy new year. She could see it lighting up below the bar, Caitlin, who was out with Cisco, Iris and Barry, out of town for a holiday vacation, her friends from Star City, everyone sending her messages, and it was still a few minutes out.

Zari had joined her behind the bar as they poured out champagne flutes for everyone - it wasn’t the great stuff, but it was free, which people enjoyed more. Zari was passing them as Sara poured bottle after bottle. As Zari started slowing down, Sara glanced around, see that everyone she could see had a flute

“Last call before we close till the new year!” Sara announced.

She caught sight of Leonard at the corner, his glass empty. Grabbing it, she replaced it with a full one she had waiting and winked at him. He smiled at her, holding the side of the bar up as she and Zari exited.

There were 45 seconds to go, and Sara noticed that Leonard was lingering at her side, not touching, but definitely close enough to deter other would-be midnight kisses. She cut her eyes at him, appreciating the dark silver tie he was wearing, and the tiepin with the jet stone in it.

“Happy New Year, boss,” she said, as the crowd counted down from thirty.

“Happy New Year,” he answered. His hand came to rest on the small of her back, and Sara was already turning towards him.

The sounds of a fight were breaking out as they hit twenty, and Leonard glanced over. “Dammit.” He looked down at her, and she appreciated the hesitation.

“Go. I’ve got the bar. That way, you’ll know where I’ll be.”

He didn’t smile, but vanished into the crowd, heading towards the sounds of chaos. Even from here, she could hear Mick’s laughter, the doors having shut before the countdown so everyone within Gaudia could celebrate together.

The crowd hit five, and Sara was swept up in the fervor, counting down with them.

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Auld Lang Syne” broke out from the band, people mumbling their way through the words if their mouths weren’t otherwise occupied. Sara grabbed a few empty champagne flutes dangling from the hands of preoccupied revelers before she gave up.

The crowd was laughing and cheering and hugging, and for a moment, Sara forgot about drugs and dealers and dead kids and being a PI. She forgot everything except this feeling of euphoria, of a new chance, a fresh start.

Sara allowed herself to be pulled into the crowd, laughed, floating between arms. She pecked Ray on the cheek, laughing as he blushed. Charlie grabbed her and planted a good one on her. Even Zari gave her a kiss on the cheek and a roll of her eyes. Sara laughed, kissing friends and strangers alike on the cheek, receiving small kisses on her cheeks in return, the whole crowd mixing together to share it.

Catching sight of the doctor lurking around the bar, she snuck around the corner, putting the bar between him and her. Looking over her shoulder, she was pushed off balance by a rather voracious couple, and fell into someone.

He supported her, lifting her onto her feet, holding her steady as the crowd heaved around them. The lights flared and went dark, again and again. She felt the man lean down and Sara presented her cheek.

A pair of lips brushed her cheek, ghosting over the corner of mouth.

There was a spark and Sara inhaled sharply, as if a wire was pressed to her skin. She smelled sandalwood and opened her eyes.

Leonard looked down at her, the faint smirk in place. His collar was a little crooked, but his eyes were dancing, the adrenaline from the fight giving his face some color. Sara grinned up at him, straightening his tie.

Leonard’s eyes narrowed just slightly, then he leaned down, hesitating for just a moment before he kissed her properly.

Even with just a simple kiss, Leonard burned away all other lips and memories, freezing them in the past. The lightheartedness was over immediately, as Sara leaned into him, the kiss turning soft and lingering.

He broke away for a moment, not very far, and Sara exhaled against his mouth shakily, her eyes darting up to his. His expression was raw and unchecked, and infused with a sudden unexpected longing that Sara had never seen before. Her expression must have been something similar, because his arms tightened on her elbows and pulled her against him.

This time, there was no hint of hesitation or laughter to the kiss. His mouth was hot and insistent against hers, one hand leaving her elbow to wrap around her, pulling her against him. Sara clung to the lapels of his jacket as she willingly moved towards him, parting her lips and tasting the pomegranate she’d muddled into his drinks for him since day one. Leonard leaned down towards her, his usual aloof and stoic demeanor peeling away, and her sarcasm and quips silenced, until they were two raw nerve endings meeting.

Sara made a sound in the back of her throat, that was lost in the noise of the club, but Leonard must have  _ felt  _ it, because she felt his hand weave into her hair and tilt her chin up, exposing more of her to his hands and his lips, and god, she wanted-

Someone bumped into them, knocking Leonard to the side and forcing them to break the kiss.

“Happy New Year!” the person shouted.

Leonard held her steady, but the expression didn’t change, even if he didn’t lean down again. Sara’s breath was coming too quickly, her lips tingling. Exhaling shakily, she looked up at him.

His eyes were dark again, watching her recover her composure. He seemed too still, though, like he was waiting for her to say something he didn’t want to hear.

It was too crowded, too loud, too open to be honest with him at the moment. She couldn’t tell him that it felt like she’d been waiting her whole life to kiss him. She couldn’t tell him that it was definitely worth the wait. She couldn’t say that she was ready to personally tear down every building in Star City to find Adams so they could do that again, as soon as possible. She couldn’t, even though she wanted to.

So she smiled, smoothing his jacket down again, and got on her toes so he could hear her. “Knew you were jealous.”

Leonard laughed, then retorted, “You deserve the best. We both know that’s me.”

His arrogance shouldn’t be attractive. It really shouldn’t. But it was. She laughed, and nodded in agreement. Leonard was still holding her.

Loathe as she was to move, she knew they were pushing their luck. Most of their interaction could be played off as an intoxicated celebration of the New Year, but they couldn’t let it continue. Not until everyone was safe.

She pulled away gently, and Leonard let go, his expression understanding, if annoyed by it.

“I should get back to the bar,” she said.

He nodded, “And I should help Mick.”

“Give him a kiss for me.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, and turned away from her. Sara snuck back to the bar, avoiding the doctor and shutting the bar as she prepared to reopen the tabs. While the register was loading, she checked her phone, seeing two from her father, one from Caitlin, and...8 from Iris? She opened up the chat with Iris and Caitlin.

**11:20 Body dropped. Call me. ASAP.**

**11:30 Sara call me.**

**11:45 Dad says Doyle’s on the warpath. He’s coming to Gaudia.**

**11:46 He thinks it’s one of you.**

**11:50 He’s making an arrest. Tonight!**

**11:51 Call me!**

**11:55 He’s on his way! Sara, if you get arrested again, we both know it’s deep shit!**

**11:59 CALL ME**

Sara looked up, catching sight of Leonard across the room. It was either her or Leonard Doyle was coming for, and considering who pissed him off the most last time-

“Len!” she shouted, trying to get his attention.

Leonard paused, glancing back at her.

The doors to Gaudia burst open, Doyle at the head of two dozen cops.

“Mr. Leonard Snart,” he announced, a cruel grin on his face. “You’re under arrest for murder!”

* * *

Caitlin rubbed her eyes, her head aching. She’d made the mistake of celebrating at a bar with Cisco, who could not hold his liquor. She’d spent most of the night on the sidewalk as he alternated between trying to pick up girls and vomiting. It was not a nice memory.

As it was, Cisco was in bed before the New Year, and she’d just been getting home when Iris’s messages came through. She’d stared at her phone, waiting for a response. It didn’t come until after midnight.

**Leonard’s been arrested.**

She tried to wait up for Sara, but she dozed off on the couch. When her alarm went off, Caitlin checked Sara’s room to find her roommate curled up in bed, a frown on her face even in sleep.

Caitlin started the coffee before she left, leaving Sara a note to call her when she got up. Then, she set off to work early, determined to find some answers.

Sara’s question the other night had left Caitlin unsettled. It wasn’t impossible that Marcus had simply used his other arm to inject into, but there weren’t any marks or scars on his left arm. So, it was unlikely that he would do that. Meaning that…

“Someone gave injected it into him.”

“Hmm?” Harry asked, looking up from his computer.

“It’s just...Sara’s case.”

He minimized what he was working on, turning his chair to face her. “What about it?” he asked, steepling his fingers together.

“The victims of Vertigo have either died from serotonin syndrome, or heart attack, and all of them had been at Gaudia the night of their deaths.”

“Meaning the dealer was there,” Harry said.

Caitlin nodded, but that wasn’t the part she was concerned about. “Sara noticed Marcus had a needle mark on his arm.”

“Not unheard of.”

“Except it was on his right arm. He was right handed.”

Harry nodded slowly. “So someone did it for him. Again...doesn’t rule out that he chose to do it. Just that he had help.”

Caitlin sighed, blinking a couple of times to clear her head. She opened up the pictures Sara and Leonard had sent her, skimming through the notes. Harry turned back to his computer, letting her work quietly.

Frowning, Caitlin checked the causes of death against the images. “Harry?”

He was staring at his computer, so Caitlin came over, putting the pictures over the keyboard. “Every victim who died of heart attack had it injected in. Four of the five associated with Gaudia. Marcus, and the girl Sara tried to save, Jason, and Ira. All of them had it done to them.”

Harry stared at the images. “The odds of all of them asking for help are...slim.”

“And Monica, the only one with serotonin syndrome, she had all the signs of being a habitual user. Combine any number of drugs with MDMA, or something close to it, and the body will react poorly.” Caitlin sat on the edge of the desk. “Someone is targeting people at Gaudia on purpose.”

“To what end?”

Caitlin shook her head slowly, not sharing every detail of her conversation with Sara. But if Leonard was the immovable wall keeping the Count from dealing in Gaudia, and therefore the only one standing in the way of him taking over the slums completely...that seemed like motive.

“A hell of a way to go,” Harry said, looking over Caitlin’s note. “Injected, it would directly affect the thalamus. That would make them feel like they were in pain, theoretically for hours. Days, depending on their strength.”

“Eventually the heart just gives out,” she finished. “That’s why they have the muscle tears. They’re straining against the pain.”

“If they’re targeting Gaudia,” Harry said after a moment, “stands to reason they’re watching those who work there.”

“I know.”

“Snow…”

“I know, Harry.” She rubbed her eyes, letting her hands fall into her lap.

A large, warm hand covered hers. Caitlin opened her eyes, to see Harry stared at her. “I’m not going to try talk you out of it. I wouldn’t succeed anyway. But if you need anything...”

“I know that, too,” Caitlin said, turning her hand under his to entwine their fingers.

Harry’s eyes were concerned, but there was something else in them that Caitlin wasn’t entirely certain of. It was too much, so she looked away, catching sight of his computer screen.

“Are you still running simulations on the particle accelerator?” she asked.

“Just theorizing.” He pulled his hand from hers, collecting her papers and blacking out his screen. He stood up, walking towards the door.

Caitlin stared after him, a little confused. She got to her feet, “Harry-”

Her phone started to ring, and Caitlin sighed, glancing at the name.

She sighed. “Hey, Sara. I have some information, but you’re not going to like it.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara gets answers, one way or another.  
> Leonard makes a discovery.  
> Ray throws another party.

Sara had been moving since she saw Caitlin’s note. She wasn’t surprised Cait was at work before 8 AM, and the information she’d given her was helpful, if terrifying.

But, it also gave her a lead.

Barry, despite his complaints, gave her all the information she needed, after confirming Leonard was okay. It had been a little more difficult, with him out of town, but he still came through for her.

A knot continued tightening in Sara’s stomach, with every passing hour Leonard was in custody. And then Sara stood outside of a small apartment building in the projects before 9 AM, waiting for the brunette from the night Ushi had died.

Willow Stanley.

She’d been in the bathroom when Sara had found Ushi’s body, and since Ushi had the Vertigo injected, it meant Willow was probably the one to do it. Either she was the one distributing the drugs, or she knew who it was. Either way, Sara needed to talk to her.

And she was going to get answers.

It was a just over an hour before Willow appeared, stepping out from her apartment with a to-go coffee mug in one hand and her phone in the other. Sara crossed the street and fell into step behind her.

Willow didn’t notice her for the first block, but when she turned, she caught sight of Sara out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t recognize her, her jeans and black sweatshirt very different from her flowered bartending outfits, and kept walking, just assuming Sara was another pedestrian out for a walk.

Timing it out, Sara made sure no one saw when she grabbed Willow’s arm and dragged her into an alley.

“Hey-get off of me!” Willow shouted, trying to shove Sara off.

Sara slammed her against the wall, not flinching as Willow’s head smacked against the brick. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Willow hissed, pushing Sara back. “Get off-”

As Sara pulled out the knife from the back of her belt, Willow’s voice shrunk and disappeared.

“I have questions,” Sara repeated quietly. “If you scream, or lie, or don’t answer, I’ll assume there’s no point in letting you keep your voice.”

She shook beneath Sara’s grip, and just nodded once, her eyes huge.

“Great. You were found with that girl who died in Gaudia, Ushi. You injected her with Vertigo, is that right?”

Willow’s mouth opened and Sara moved the knife closer to her throat, her voice dropping low and turning cold.

“Don’t. Lie.”

She swallowed hard, and nodded. “Ye-yes.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“I don’t know his name-”

“Describe him. He must come to Gaudia often. Where does he hang out, how do people get the drug off of him?”

“They just...he’s a tall guy. He’s got a tattoo on his wrist. It’s a C, with a line through it. Like this.” She lifted her arm, showing a tattoo on her wrist. It was the same as what was on the baggies. “He...he sits at the bar a lot.”

Sara moved the knife slightly, and Willow squeezed her eyes shut, trying to lean away.

“He has glasses-he’s a doctor! They call him the Doctor!”

Stilling, Sara canted her head to the side, recalling her suitor from New Years. “The Doctor?”

Willow nodded, but stopped it suddenly as the knife bumped against her jaw. “Yeah, he finds me some nights, gives me the needle and points out someone, and I do it!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! He just tells me to do it and I do! I’ve seen what happens to people who refuse, and I don’t want to be like one of them!” Willow’s eyes were starting to tear up.

“Why Gaudia?”

“The Count’s got a grudge against the owner. They want him gone, but they want the club.”

“Why are you helping them?” Sara asked, her list of questions waiting for the moment.

Willow met her eyes, a tear spilling over. “What else am I gonna do in the slums? It’s sell or be sold.”

Sara refused to bend, though that hit a little closer than she wanted. “Where’s their dispensary? Where are they making the drugs?”

“Some gym. It used to be on the wharfs, but they’ve moved closer.”

Too coincidental to be anything other than Ted’s. “His lieutenants, how many? Where do they gather?”

“Ten or twelve, I don’t-I don’t know! They hang out at the gym, then get sent out other places, but they only go a couple nights a month to get the V. The Count doesn’t want them there often, but I don’t know anything else, please!”

Sara believed her. She knew what she needed to know. “If you tell them I spoke to you, they might kill me, but they’ll definitely kill you for spreading their secrets.”

“I don’t want to die,” Willow sobbed, and Sara almost felt guilty. “I don’t want to end up like Marcus-”

Sara frowned, loosening her hold. “You knew Marcus?”

“He was here when I started, he was just dealing the pills, but then the boss caught him-”

“The Count?” Sara interrupted.

“No, the asshole at Gaudia. Snart. He caught him. Marcus started asking questions. Lieutenants, about the dispensary, everything. Then Marcus wound up dead. Anyone who ask questions gets killed.”

Leonard knew Marcus? He caught him, and then Marcus started asking the questions that Leonard had mentioned wanting to know, and then...

Sara swallowed tightly, then took a step back, lowering the knife. “Get out of town. If you don’t tell anyone, if you move quickly enough, they won’t find out until it’s too late.”

Willow stared at her, mascara streaming down her face. “You...you aren’t going to kill me?”

“No. But if I see you at Gaudia again, I’m going to give this recording to the police.” Sara took her phone and waved it slightly.

Willow sobbed again, then wiped her face. “They’re gonna kill you.”

Sara grinned, turning her back on Willow and stalking out of the alley. “Not if I kill them first.”

* * *

The shouting outside the door would have brought a smile to Leonard’s lips, had he not been so irritated by the situation. 

“...tell me you don’t have Snart in there!” A deep, bellowing voice echoed through the interrogation room door. It sounded familiar, but Leonard couldn’t place it.

“I - we had evidence-”

That sniveling voice was definitely Doyle. He didn’t sound nearly as gleeful as when he had cuffed Leonard in front of the entire club, making sure his announcement of the charges carried. Leonard rolled his shoulders, the restless morning at the interrogation table not helping his lack of sleep. He snuck a glance at his watch, which Doyle hadn’t confiscated - idiot - seeing it was 11:32 AM.

They’d kept him in the holding cell overnight. He’d dozed a little, his back against the wall, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep completely. Not that he would have been able to sleep much, not with the taste of Sara still forefront in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the way she looked at him afterwards, that little shocked smile on her lips. If he’d known that would be the way to get Sara to go speechless, he might have tried it earlier.

He smiled to himself.

“You’ve got jack shit!”

“Snart is-”

“Loaded and you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t sue your ass for wrongful imprisonment.” There was a thud. “And if he doesn’t, I might press charges for you being a complete idiot.”

“At least let me talk to him! I’ll break him, I promise!”

“I seriously doubt it.”

The door swung open, and Doyle strode in, looking slightly paler than usual. Behind him, a tall, broad shouldered man, wearing a thick sweater and dark beanie. His badge said Detective West, and he carried a folder of papers.

The detective leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, looking more than a little annoyed. Doyle glanced at him briefly, then dragged out one of the metal chairs, the legs squeaking against the tile floor and making Leonard sigh.

“Do you know why you’re here, Snart?”

Leonard just stared at him through half-lowered lids.

“Another man was murdered last night. Louie Daggett. Ring a bell?” He didn’t wait for Leonard’s answer before slapping down a photograph. Leonard didn’t even look at it, keeping his eyes on Doyle. “You know him?”

Leonard didn’t respond.

“Of course you do! Because he was hasseling your new buddy, Sara Lance!”

That got a note of interest, and Leonard actually lowered his eyes to look at the photo. It took a moment, but Leonard recognized the dead man in the photo, even with his contorted face and limbs. It was the same guy who had grabbed Sara’s arm the night she was hurt. The same guy he’d embarrassed publicly, was now dead, a Gaudia stamp on his wrist.

“Sara Lance?” West said, frowning.

“The blonde pain in the ass we’ve picked up a dozen times,” Doyle added. “You know, the feminist piece of-”

“Yeah, I know who she is, jackass. Watch it,” West snapped.

Leonard felt a kinship towards the detective with that comment. He pushed the photograph across the table. “Lots of people come into my club and harass my staff. How was I supposed to have killed him?”

“Same way the others were killed, and we’ll be looking into those again, you can be sure. The new drug, the green pills. You gave it to him. We know you’ve had it. CSI found traces of it in your drains.” Doyle’s nasty smile was only matched by the hatred in his eyes.

Leonard smiled coldly. “Because it’s not as if hundreds of people walk through my club every single day, with access to the drains.”

Doyle blinked, a frown appearing. “He was in your club the night he died-”

“As were hundreds of other people,” Leonard drawled. “And my security cameras, which I’m sure you reviewed.”

“We have,” West added, his arms crossed.

“Then you’ll have seen that I wasn’t anywhere near this...Daggett.”

“Yup,” West said.

“So,” Leonard said with a sigh, “anything you have is circumstantial at best, and you stalked into my club without a warrant, arrested me without cause, and made a scene.”

Doyle’s mouth opened and shut without sound.

“Congratulations,” Leonard said, smirking.

Doyle stood, the chair screaming across the floor as he leaned across the table to get in Leonard’s face. “You’re a son of a bitch, Snart, and I’m going to take you down if it’s the last thing I-”

“Go see the Captain,” West ordered.

Doyle turned on West, still glaring.

West straightened, using the eight inches he had on Doyle to his full advantage. “You’ve got something you want to say to me, officer?”

Doyle’s jaw snapped shut, and he stalked out of the room without a backward glance.

West sighed, rubbing his eyes. He approached Leonard’s side, taking a key out of his pocket. “I don’t suppose you accept apologies?”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Detective,” Leonard said. He rubbed his wrists once they were free, the familiar ache fading. “Doyle is just an idiot.”

West snorted. “Well, I’m still sorry for putting you through this. We’ll get your paperwork pushed through so you can get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at West. “You know he’s taking bribes from the Royal Flush Gang, right?”

“Know? Yes. Can I prove it yet? No. Don’t suppose you can help me out?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

West pocketed the key, taking the seat across from him. “I think I should be thanking you anyway.”

Leonard, sitting back in his chair, arched a brow.

“My girl, Iris, she’s close with Sara Lance. I heard you hired her as a bartender.”

Leonard nodded. “I did.”

“Good. She been dealt a crappy hand, but she’s got a good heart. I was worried, when Iris and her met, that she was heading towards an early grave.” West opened up the folder, the discharge paperwork already printed. Apparently he hadn’t had much faith in Doyle, either.

“She can be...reckless,” Leonard said, taking the pen West offered.

West laughed, filling out one of the forms before passing it over for Leonard to sign. “That’s for damn sure. When Sara started going the PI route, I knew she was gonna get herself into trouble.”

Leonard signed the bottom of the paper, then paused.

West continued, not noticing. “Then the two of them both got involved in this drug thing, and...I’m just glad Sara’s got a stable job, with good people now. Iris hopes she stays at your club, gives up the whole PI thing. It’s good, what she does, but with cops like Doyle out there and the people she’s already managed to piss off, it’s just not safe.”

“Right,” Leonard murmured, everything sliding into place. Her connections, her rap sheet, her almost omniscient knowledge of the drugs. It had all been part of her plan to get the information.

Not the he blamed her for trying to bring down Adams; he’d seen how far she was willing to go - she seemed ready to take on Adams single-handed. In fact, he didn’t think there was anything she wouldn’t do to stop him.

Even including leading someone on…?

He obviously had the most information on Adams. The largest connection. The most access. She’d convinced him to work together. She’d convinced him he needed her. She’d convince him that she needed him. That she wanted him.

And he’d fallen for it. Flowered bait and all.

“Just sucks she ended up right in the middle of this whole drug thing anyway. Some luck she’s got, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, signing the papers without really looking at the words, his thoughts making the lines swim. “Some luck.”

* * *

Sara was serving drinks per usual, Gaudia wasn’t quite as packed as it should have been, but it was better than what she’d anticipated. Ray had thrown together a homecoming party for Leonard, who had been texting Mick to let him know when he was being released. The flyers were haphazardly created, and messages sent out on their social media, but it was still happening. Zari and Sara had made a “Welcome Home” banner after nixing Charlie’s suggestion of “Knew You Weren’t a Murderer.”

Though she knew Mick would be driving him back from the police department, Sara couldn’t help but glance up at the door every few minutes, checking to see if he was here yet.

When she wasn’t looking for Leonard, she was looking to see if the Doctor was back, or anyone else with a C tattoo. But she was getting nothing on either front.

Forcing a smile, she continued to serve the drinks as best she could, keeping the momentum going as Charlie’s music pounded through her skin. She hadn’t made much effort in her ensemble tonight: just black jeans and a black tank top with her usual flowered wrap.

Suddenly, the doors slammed open, and Charlie paused the music, the absence of sound making Sara feel as if she’d gone temporarily deaf. She looked up, seeing Mick stepping through the doors. Mick looked out over the crowd for a moment, then inhaled.

“He’s back!” he roared, taking a step to the side, his words echoing over the still masses.

The crowd in front of Sara shifted, and she had to slide down the bar

Leonard stood in the open doors, fixing his cuff links and glancing out over the crowd. Like he hadn’t just been in prison for a day, like he hadn’t been arrested, like he hadn’t been accused of murder. He straightened his jacket, his brow arched at the crowd.

His gaze swept over them, lingering for a moment on Sara, before he continued past.

“Isn’t this a party?” he asked, his voice carrying.

Charlie didn’t miss the moment, and the music thumped back down, raucous cheers rising up and drinks lifted in Leonard’s honor. Sara grinned, making his usual to have it ready when he came to the bar.

She knew that Willow hadn’t been lying to her. Marcus and Leonard had crossed paths, and maybe Leonard had been using Marcus to get information on the Count and Vertigo. Maybe Marcus had volunteered. But she knew, undoubtedly, that Leonard didn’t have anything to do with Marcus’s death. He wasn’t that kind of man. He was the kind of man to try and help Marcus. To let people think the worst of him so he could protect his friends. He was the kind of man who’d give up everything if it meant saving the people he cared about. Leonard was the kind of man who was so difficult to get close to, but once you did, it was impossible not to love him-

Sara had to jump back as she dropped a glass, the shattering sound drawing all nearby eyes. They gave her a round of applause as she smiled ruefully, sweeping it up with the small brush they kept for just that purpose.

When she looked up, she noticed Leonard had arrived, taking his usual seat in the corner. She smiled, putting the brush away and grabbing his drink before approaching.

“Welcome back,” she said.

He didn’t smile, but he took the drink. Sara’s eyes darted over him, taking in the bruises under his eyes from not sleeping. He looked tired, but fine. A knot of tension in her stomach unraveled, seeing him whole and hale. And maybe something larger than a knot unraveled somewhere in her chest, making her breath come a little easier.

“Afterwards, we need to talk,” she said, leaning over and putting her hand on his wrist.

Leonard picked up his drink and stood, pulling away from her. Sara saw the shadows under his eyes, the lines of exhaustion on his face. That was nothing new to her.

The suspicion, however, the cautious stillness, that was new. And it hurt.

“We certainly do,” he said, his tone flat.

Then he walked away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin makes two discoveries: one good, one not so good.  
> Sara and Leonard talk.

With Cisco still out of town, Caitlin and Harry had been the only two in the lab. She loved Cisco, so very much, but sometimes, just having Harry around was nice, too. They could be working on completely different things, with random questions or statements tossed across the room and answered without any more interaction than that. Sometimes he would just come over and watch her work, helping, so he claimed. Sometimes she’d read through his work aloud, helping him catch any errors he might have missed. Sometimes they worked in utter silence for hours.

Caitlin rarely worked with anyone as well as she worked with Harry. He pushed her beyond what she thought she was capable of, while still maintaining that she was brilliant already.

Ronnie had been brilliant, but it was more applied, practical work. Harry’s work was more theoretical, and she felt like she was a good balance to him, making sure he didn’t take his theories too far, reminding him of the real world applications and effects it would have. Just like he encouraged her to think beyond what was immediately useful, and find new ways of approaching a problem, sometimes resulting in amazing breakthroughs.

Not that she was comparing Ronnie and Harry.

She frowned at her computer as that thought materialized. Ronnie and Harry were nothing alike, other than the location of their job. Ronnie was young and energetic and handsome and happy...he was optimistic and loyal and kind. He was the brightest part in Caitlin’s life. When he died, there had been a void.

And yes, she’d gotten closer to Harry since Ronnie’s death, and sure, she’d had to reevaluate some of her misconceptions about him. Like...she had thought he was too serious because Harry rarely laughed, but then she noticed that he smiled quite often, when he thought people weren’t looking. And he might be older than her, but he wasn’t ancient. He was still healthy and active, and an avid runner. He might be more realistic than optimistic, but any scientist had to have a healthy dose of both, to see what the world was coming to and still try and find a way to improve it. And Harry had stood by Caitlin even when she argued with him and fought with him and pursued drug cases with illegally obtained information. And he cared about her, sometimes going about it the wrong way, but he honestly just cared, and he was definitely handsome-

“Snow? Everything okay?”

She jumped, turning in her seat and nodding. “Yeah. Yes.”

“You sure?” Harry asked, coming over to lean over her chair. “Something I can help with?”

He’d pushed the sleeves of his sweater up, and she’d always been a sucker for nice arms. She could see the faint 5 o’clock shadow on his jaw, and he pushed up the glasses he wore when he was using a computer, his eyes crinkling slightly just as they did every time he tried to decipher something for the first time. On his breath, she could smell the coffee she’d made for both of them earlier, his usual with three sugars and a cream, unless Cisco was here, then it was black. His hair was mussed from how many times he ran his fingers through it when he worked on a difficult problem. She hadn’t realized she’d noticed so much about him. She hadn’t noticed when she’d made him such a huge part of her life.

She hadn’t noticed when-

Caitlin tried to take a deep breath, but it all smelled like him. She rolled away and stood up. “You know, it’s late, I should get going.”

Harry frowned at her for a moment, then glanced at the clock. “I didn’t realize it was so late.” He shook his head, then grabbed his bag. “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s really not a problem-” she said, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she gathered her papers.

“It’s late, Snow. Please.”

As always, she relented. Because it was Harry.

They locked up the lab and headed to his car, the vents already turned away from her as he blasted the air conditioning as soon as he turned it on.

They didn’t talk much on the ride home. Another one of the idiosyncrasies - they could go from non-stop chatter to absolute silence, with zero discomfort. Just knowing he was here to speak to if she needed him was enough. And he was always there.

“Are you planning on coming in tomorrow?” Harry asked as they turned onto her street.

“Probably.”

“Not a fan of the holidays? You haven’t taken one day off, yet.”

Caitlin smiled. “I like work.”

“Me too,” he said quietly, driving up to her apartment building. “But you should take a day off though.”

“We’ll see. I actually...wait.”

Outside her door, there were three men loitering. It wasn’t unusual in this area, but there was something off about it that sent Caitlin’s nerves into overdrive, her gut screaming at her.

“Can you just pull around the block, please?” she asked, her voice sounding small. “I need to make a call.”

“Is everything okay?” Harry continued past the building, despite his question.

“I don’t know.” Caitlin dialed the number quickly and waited for Sara to pick up.

_ “Hey, Cait. What’s up?” _

She could hear music pounding in the background, but Sara seemed to hear her just fine. “There are three guys waiting outside our building. I don’t...I don’t know what they’re looking for, but I was wondering if you might have brought some work home.”

Sara was quiet for a long moment.  _ “Any of these guys have tattoos?” _

Caitlin closed her eyes, trying to envision the men. “One of them, yeah. A ‘C’ on his forearm.”

_ “Shit. Do not go inside. Can you call Iris?” _

“She’s still out of town with Barry. I can get a hotel room or something.”

Harry glanced sharply over at her, the frown starting between his eyes.

_ “Okay. Do not go home until I let you know. I’m sorry. I thought...Someone talked, apparently.” _

“It’s okay. Just be safe.”

_ “You, too.” _

“I call you later,” Caitlin said.

_ “Bye, Cait.” _

“Bye.” She hung up, keeping her eyes forward. “Can you take me to the motel on 5th?”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

Caitlin sighed. “Sara was tailed back to our place. Usually, I’d just go stay with my friend, but she’s out of town-”

“Wait, this has happened before?” Harry said, his voice rising.

“It’s not as if I just take her classes for fun.” Caitlin tried a smile she didn’t quite feel. “Sara is nothing if not persistent. So the motel-”

“I’m not bringing you to a motel,” Harry argued, flipping on his blinker and going the other way. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep, not knowing if you were alright.”

Feeling the flush start on her cheeks, Caitlin glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You worry about me, Harry?”

He cleared his throat, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “You can stay with me. I’ve got the room. I mean, if that’s okay.”

“I don’t want to be an imposition.”

“You’re never an imposition, Snow.”

Caitlin smiled at her lap. “Then it’s okay. I’d feel...safer with you, anyway.”

She saw one of those rare smiles on his face.

“Just don’t tell Ramon where I live.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Leonard unlocked his door, stepping aside to let Sara enter first. He didn’t meet her eyes as she looked up at him, closing the door behind her and dropping her bag by the door. She took a seat on the couch, turning towards the empty side, but he didn’t join her. He walked over to his bar, pouring himself a drink.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the slight frown appearing between her eyes.

“I’m fine. You said you had information.”

“I know who’s dealing the V here.”

That was new information. Essential information. And it should be the only thing on his mind. Instead, he couldn’t think of anything other than the fact she’d used him.

He was above this sort of nonsense. Certainly, he and Sara shared a connection, but that didn’t excuse his distraction from the bigger problem. They’d barely even kissed, and here  he was, mooning over her as if she’d broken his heart-

“Len?” Sara asked, getting to her feet. “Did you hear me?”

He had to focus on the issue at hand. The drugs, the Vertigo, the Count, the seemingly unavoidable conflict that was coming. He was Captain Cold, master of plans and forethought, engineer of the greatest heists in modern history, infamous for seeing every potential move. He would deal with the most important things first, and handle the trivial later.

“Len?” she asked again, behind him. She put a hand on his arm.

Leonard immediately moved away, putting the glass down and facing her. “I’m curious, were you going to tell us the truth before you left? Or just vanish once this was over and go back to being a PI?”

So much for not being distracted.

She dropped her hand, and took a step back.

A small part of Leonard was disappointed that she didn’t deny it immediately. He killed that feeling, keeping his face impassive as she sighed and rubbed her neck, obviously collecting her thoughts.

He’d gone back, searching through her background once he heard what she was. Though there had been nothing overt - no business license registered to her, no address of her business, no pictures, or ever a flyer - he’d found it eventually. Just a second cell phone registered under a false name, but paid for with her credit card. That was the only sign he’d missed, and it had changed everything.

His only consolation was that Zari had missed it, too.

“I tried to tell you...the night Adams came,” Sara said quietly.

“And as we were interrupted,” Leonard responded, his voice carefully flat, “you didn’t have the opportunity to tell me that night. Or in any of the weeks since then, obviously.”

She looked down. “I was afraid that you’d think I had used...Gaudia.”

“And I’d be right,” he snapped. “You did.”

“I...I was just here for information, at first. You’re right.”

He scoffed, turning away from her.

“But it’s not like that anymore,” she insisted.

“So you have a few drinks with us and suddenly you care?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes, putting his hands on the back of the couch and looking at her over it.

Sara shrugged, anger starting to appear. “I’m sorry, but isn’t that how it happens? I don’t know you, I get to know you, I care about you. That’s what happened.”

Leonard shook his head. “You lied.”

“No. I didn’t lie about anything. I...omitted some things, but I never lied.” The anger faded, and her voice got quiet. “Not to you.”

He wanted to believe her. Foolish as it was, he wanted it to be true. But she’d used him. Them.

“Why?” he asked. Why did she choose Gaudia? Why did she choose him? Why did she make him...care?

Sara collapsed once to the couch, her hands wringing one another in her lap, a display of nerves that he’d never seen on her before. Automatically, he took a step toward her, before catching himself.

“A girl named Michaela approached me, asking me to find her brother. I’d helped her cousin a few weeks before, getting out of a bad divorce. I’ve never advertised for my business. Sometimes I find the clients, sometimes they find me through word of mouth. I never wanted anyone to know what I looked like...kind of defeated the purpose of being a PI when everyone knows who you are.” At least that explained some of it.

She inhaled slowly. “Her brother had been missing for three months, and the cops had already labeled him a runaway. I did what I could, but I…” She shook her head. “The cops found his body. He had a Gaudia stamp on his wrist. I came here and...tasted your drinks. I talked to Zari, and they gave me a job. I was looking for the dealer. That was it.” She looked up at him. “I just wanted to make sure that whoever killed Marcus gets what’s coming to them.”

“Marcus?” Leonard echoed, frowning.

“You knew him,” she said quietly. “The girl who told me about the V, she told me Marcus was dealing the pills here, and you caught him. Then he started asking questions and-”

“No.” Leonard’s smile was hard. “No. I didn’t catch him.” It was his turn to take a seat, across from her. “He came to me and asked for help.” 

Sara leaned towards him, but didn’t interrupt.

“I offered to get him out of town. Help set him up with some connections I had in Gotham.” He paused, recalling Marcus’s face, so full of trepidation. “I explained why he couldn’t tell anyone, since Adams had half the slums by then, already. He didn’t realize it was that bad. He offered to help. To get me the information I needed. I warned him to be careful with his questions.” Leonard scoffed. “He wasn’t.”

She didn’t look surprised at his involvement. She just sighed and sat back against the couch. “Adams kills anyone who asks questions. That’s why no one knows anything. We need-”

“We,” he echoed, still harshly.

“Yeah, we.” She leaned forward on the couch. “What do you want me to say, Len? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything? I am. That I really care about Gaudia? I do.”

He scoffed, shaking his head and Sara moved over, taking the seat next to him.

“I have been all around the world. Literally,” she said, intensely, nervously speaking. “And working here, meeting all of you, being with...you, has felt more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever been.”

“You lied.”

“I omitted to protect people I didn’t want to get involved. To keep them safe. Does that sound familiar?”

He didn’t deign to answer that, because it was painfully obvious to the both of them.

Sara put her hand on his, “I’m not keeping secrets anymore.”

It was an offer. A gesture. For a moment, his mind was blank, content to take her words at face value. But slowly, a doubt began to swim its way towards his lips.

“The day you were hurt. Thugs coming home from work?”

She hesitated, but spoke, pulling her hand away, her fingers wringing in her lap. “I was shaking down dealers after Ushi died. We needed answers, and I didn’t get anything. So instead, I took the V I stole off of Ushi and gave it to Caitlin.”

“You were why the dealers were running scared?” He’d heard tales of it from Werner - dozens of dealers were found half-alive, beaten to pulps. None of them said who had done it; those that could talk said it was a group, or the cops, or an accident. A good third of Zytle’s men disappeared that night, left town, afraid to keep working. He’d been hoping for some of them to come to him for safety, but Adams had them too afraid to look to Gaudia.

She nodded, and Leonard stared at her, reluctantly amazed. Dozens of men were beaten that night, and though she hadn’t looked perfect, it spoke to her skill that the injuries she’d had were so minor in comparison.

It was also obvious why no one had spoken out against who did it - who’d want to admit that a petite blonde had handed them their asses?

“The...training?” he followed it up with.

“League of Assassins. A boat I was on sank. I was...rescued by them.” She said “rescued,” but it was clear that wasn’t what she meant. “I paid my debt in blood. I thought it was right...taking out politicians and diplomats as opposed to soldiers. I was wrong. So I left.”

Leonard stared ahead, still trying to wrap his head around it. It’s not like he had room to judge. She hadn’t really lied. She told him the truth. But something still felt a little...off in the aftermath. He shoved it to the side and nodded.

“Who’s dealing the V?”

He saw her staring at him out of her peripherals, but she said, “The Doctor. The guy in glasses on New Years.”

“The one looking for a kiss?” Leonard asked, glancing at her automatically.

“Yeah. He was giving the needles and V to one of their dealers, pointing out who would get it. She also told me that Adams is holed up in a recently purchased gym.”

“Your old gym?” Because of course it was.

“Best guess. He’s got about a dozen lieutenants, but they do meet there a couple times a month. If we were to get the cops there on the right night, we would have been able to get them all.”

“Would have been?” he asked.

Sara’s jaw jumped a couple times. “The girl I spoke with, Willow, she said that if she told, they’d kill her. I thought that was motivation enough. But I think Adams found out.”

“Which means he’ll be on high alert at least, if not moving his dispensary,” Leonard finished her thought. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Though...if they’re moving, they’ll be out in the open. We might get enough to have the cops called.”

“Stakeout?” Sara asked.

He nodded. “I’ll have Mick and Charlie there during the day. You and I at night. Zari will be in charge of Gaudia, and Ray on hand for emergencies. We document everything and hope it’s enough. At the least, we’ll get faces.” He got to his feet. “It’s a step.”

Sara mirrored him, but didn’t say anything.

He glanced at his watch, the exhaustion hitting him hard now. He crossed the room to grab his keys. “It’s late. Let me drive you home-”

“No, it’s okay,” she said, heading towards the door and grabbing her bag.

“It’s even more important that you get home safely. If you think Adams is aware, then…” he trailed off, her comment sliding home. “How do you know Adams might be aware?”

Sara hesitated, playing with the strap. “...Caitlin called me, and a few of his guys are staking out my place.”

Leonard swore, running his hand over his head, “Because you asked questions?”

“I don’t know. I was going to go by Zari’s on my way home to see if someone was there-”

Leonard pulled his phone out, and called Mick.

_ “What?” _ Mick rumbled.

“The Count has men outside Lance’s. What about you?”

_ “Didn’t see anyone on my way in. Give me a minute.” _

Leonard waited, hearing Mick walk around. He could picture his apartment - small window near the front east side, facing the street, and corner window on the north side, facing the alley. The perfect vantage point and exactly why Mick had taken the smaller place.

_ “Don’t see anyone here. And Z said the usuals weren’t outside Gaudia tonight. If they’re targeting Blondie-” _

“Yeah, thanks, Mick.”

_ “Be careful, boss.” _

“Sure. Bye.”

_ “Bye.” _

Leonard shook his head. “It’s just you. Not even Gaudia.”

Sara frowned. “But if they knew what I was asking, they would have known it was what you were asking...wouldn’t they be watching both of us?”

Putting his phone down, he rubbed his temple, thinking. “Unless that’s not why they were targeting you.” The answer hit him, and he was hard-pressed to keep his voice calm. “But the Doctor is in contact with Adams, and he was here at New Year. He would’ve seen…”

“He saw us kiss,” Sara finished quietly.

Leonard nodded with a frown. Idiot. He should have known better. Moles or collateral, just as he’d said.

“It’s fine,” Sara said after a moment. “We’re planning on watching the building anyway, I can lay low. I’ll just go to a motel-”

She stopped and he realized he was shaking his head.

“No?” she asked.

“You can stay here. If Adams is already watching you, there’s no harm in it.”

Several emotions flickered across her face, before she lowered her eyes. “I can take care of myself, Len. And I don’t want you to ask me to stay because you feel responsible for-”

“That’s not-” he stopped, then restarted. “I know you can. But I would feel better if you stayed here.”

She didn’t look at him, and he finally recognized her hesitation.

“I don’t care that you’re a PI. I don’t care that you...omitted the truth. I would care, very much, if something happened to you.” She looked up and he knew he was right. So carefully, quietly, he just said, “Stay.”

Sara watched him for a long, long moment.

Then she put her bag down.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara's night is...unexpected.  
> Leonard makes some threats.  
> Caitlin gets thirsty.

Sara expected it to be awkward.

It was obvious to both of them that Leonard’s couches weren’t exactly made for sleeping. They were too modern and fancy. The armchair in his office would be too small for her, let alone him, as she pointed out when he tried to say that’s where he would sleep. So that just left the bed.

The massive, satin-sheet bedecked, black and grey bed.

“I really don’t mind taking the couch,” Sara lied.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s big enough for both of us.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His faint smile soothed her leftover worries about failed to mention her job. “I think that’s inevitable, though not for the reasons you seem to believe.”

Leonard had offered to let her get ready for bed first. She’d thought, for a moment, that she’d have to ask him for something to wear, but she remembered her gym bag had a couple changes of clothes. She pulled out a tank top and shorts that were a little too small for class, but that had made it to the bottom of her bag and never resurfaced until now.

She brushed her hair with the comb she had, and her teeth with her fingers as best she could, stealing his toothpaste. Figuring that was as good as it was going to get, she went back into the bedroom.

Leonard had turned out the lights in the hall and kitchen, leaving just the lamp on one side of the bed on. From the book and glasses, which she very much wanted to see him in, she figured that was his side of the massive, king-sized monstrosity. She went to the other side, sliding between the smooth sheets and plugging in her phone with her extra cord. She shot a quick text to Caitlin, hoping she didn’t wake her, just letting her know where she was in case she needed to get in touch.

Leonard’s phone pinged from where he’d tossed it on the comforter. Automatically glancing at it, she couldn’t help but read the words -  **Movement: Side Alley** .

It was his security app for Gaudia.

She hesitated, pulling her lip between her teeth. As she wavered, another notification came up.

**Door: Side Alley.**

She got out of the bed, grabbing the knife at the bottom of her bag and crossing to the bathroom. She turned the handle and spoke quietly.

“Did you call Mick to come over?”

Leonard flinched, standing at the sink, but his voice was calm when he answered. “No. Why?”

“Someone’s inside.”

He stopped what he was doing, his shirt half buttoned and his shoes off, coming to the door. “I’ll-”

“I can get him,” Sara said. “Just come down in two minutes.”

Eyes darting from the set of her mouth to the knife in her hand, he nodded. “Don’t kill him. Unless he tries to kill you first.”

“Got it.”

She didn’t bother to turn on any lights, familiar enough with the layout of his apartment that she didn’t need them. The door to this apartment was quiet enough to blend in with the hum of the air conditioning. She locked it behind her, just in case, then gliding down the stairs, her bare feet silent and her breath coming slowly and noiselessly.

The hallway from the side door was empty, though the chill on her feet said the door had been opened recently. She cocked her head to the side as she stepped back into the shadows, listening for her quarry. For a few moments, there was nothing.

A scuff of a shoe.

She followed it to the employee lounge. She didn’t open the door, just peered through the crack to see a man, shoulders hunched, as he rifled through one of the lockers.

Her locker.

He didn’t she was there until the tip of her knife pressed against his ribs. He inhaled loudly, a squeak in his throat, and Sara recognized the profile.

“Hello, Doctor.”

* * *

This had been a very long day. A long couple of days. All Leonard had wanted was to go to sleep.

Then he’d been arrested.

Then discovered his...bartender was a PI.

Then released.

He’d come back to have an open conversation with said bartender.

He found out who was dealing in his club.

He offered up his bed.

His bartender had caught the hired murderer of the mastermind.

Who was now tied to a chair in his employee lounge, where they were questioning him.

Sometimes he missed the days of simple heists. This is what he got for trying to be an upstanding businessman. An inquisition below his apartment.

He’d come down to see Sara lashing the good doctor to a chair with what looked like his own shoelaces. Resourceful as always.

She’d seen him entering, and smiled briefly. “Boss. Meet the Doctor.”

“Oh, we’ve met,” Leonard said, coming in to lean on door frame. In the two minutes Sara had asked him to wait, he’d done up his shirt and put on his jacket again, refusing to meet with whoever she’d caught in anything less than his normal wardrobe.

She tightened the shoelaces and the doctor winced. She stood, pleased with her handiwork and then went to her locker. He was about to ask what she was doing, when she stepped back, bags of V and needles in her hands.

“Let me guess,” Leonard said lowly. “Officer Doyle was going to receive an anonymous tip?”

“Would I have even made it to the station?” Sara asked, dropping the items on the table.

The doctor pulled at his bonds, but they held. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Do enlighten us.” Leonard stalked into the room, letting the door shut behind him.

“I’m not even involved in this, I swear! This is all a misunderstanding!”

“What’s your name?” Leonard asked.

“Adrian,” the doctor blubbered.

“Adrian. Pleasure. I see you have a Count tattoo on your arm.”

Adrian tried to hide it, but the laces were tight enough that his skin was white against them.

“Don’t lie again,” Leonard said, keeping his voice calm. “Was your plan to have Miss Lance arrested?”

He glanced at Sara, who was standing somewhat behind Leonard, the knife flipping over her fingers. She was still except for her fingers, that inhuman kind of stillness he’d noticed but never really understood.

Adrian gave them a jerky nod.

“Was she going to make it to the police station?” Her comment had sparked a flare of anger in him, and he wanted it confirmed. He wanted to know just how badly he’d have to burn Adams to the ground.

Adrian shook his head, his face pale.

“And you would have used her for...what? Motivation to get me to sign over Gaudia?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sara glance at him, the knife stilling in her hand.

“That’s what the Count wants, yes,” Adrian said, drawing his attention again.

“And where might the Count and his lieutenants be?” Leonard asked. No sense in letting a good source go to waste.

Adrian shook his head. “I-I can’t tell you. I can’t!”

“Pity,” Leonard said lowly.

Adrian winced, squeezing his eyes shut, but Leonard merely pulled out his phone.

“Since you’re not cooperating,” Leonard’s fingers danced over his phone, “I suppose we’ll have to call the police.”

Sara grabbed his arm, the knife out of sight now. “No, please. That would put him in so much trouble.”

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. She wasn’t stupid - that’s what they wanted. So why was she-

She turned to Adrian, her smile sympathetic and kind and completely fake. “If we call the police, he might be under investigation. They might track him, put bugs in his house, maybe even arrest him. He might have a police presence for years.”

She let go of Leonard’s arm and walked slowly towards Adrian. Her smile was in place, but Leonard heard the shift in her voice. That dangerously threatening tone that was warning him to run even as he realized he couldn’t force himself to move away. “We should let him spend the night here, with our thanks. Then tomorrow, we’ll send him out of Gaudia with a car and maybe some cash.” She nodded as she spoke, and Adrian mirrored her unintentionally.

“And then, we’ll make our move with what we already know,” Sara said quietly. “We’ll bring down the Count’s operation, but at least the Count will have back his faithful servant, in perfect health, and Gaudia’s obvious thanks. I’m sure he’ll be...grateful.”

The blood leeched out of Adrian’s face, “Wait, no, please-”

“How long do you think someone who has the ire of the Count can make it on the streets?” Sara asked, glancing back at Leonard. “Two days?”

“If they’re lucky,” Leonard answered, crossing his arms.

Sara’s hand brushed against Adrian’s jaw. “I’ve only heard of a few people surviving after defecting on the Count. Do you know where they are?” she asked him.

“Prison,” Leonard supplied, when Adrian continued to panic, his breath coming rapidly.

“Alive and well. A few are approaching parole. Which would mean so much more if the Count was behind bars for the rest of his life,” Sara said.

“But, since you don’t have information, we can’t call the police. So we’ll let you go tomorrow,” Leonard said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“And we’ll see how far you get,” Sara finished.

“You...you don’t have anything, that’s why you’re questioning me!” Adrian said, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth.

“You broke into our club,” Sara said, stepping away from Adrian and towards Leonard. He liked the way she said ‘our’ club, when he definitely should not. “We didn’t go looking for you. Who says we need anything from you besides inconsequential details?” 

“But-”

Sara smiled up at Leonard, ignoring Adrian completely. “Do you feel like a midnight snack? I could go for some Chinese.”

“How about Thai?” he suggested, gesturing toward the door.

“Wait!”

Sara continued toward the door, Leonard on her heels.

“I can tell you things, I can...I can...”

Sara met Leonard’s eyes, a smile hidden under her expression. He turned around to face Adrian. “Such as?”

“Th-they plan to make a move.”

“Against whom?” Leonard asked.

“Zytle.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

That was something worth knowing. He glanced down at Sara; she was still facing the door, her back to Adrian, but she looked up at him, brows raised.

Her words just a whisper, she said, “If we keep him, we risk the Count coming back. But if we just let him go now, the Count might change his plans. We lose our leverage.”

“Other options?” he murmured, well aware Adrian was listening.

Sara pulled her lip between her teeth, then looked at the table.

Leonard watched her walk back, picking up the drugs Adrian was going to pin on her. She didn’t go for the needles, but the pills.

“Ecstasy usually lasts for what...six hours?” she said, her voice emotionless.

Adrian’s eyes widened as Sara opened the bag.

“And dealers don’t trust those who don’t indulge, right?” She looked at Adrian, her blue eyes cold.

Leonard pulled out his phone, summoning a car about two miles away from Gaudia. He nodded to Sara.

It wasn’t nice, what they were going to do, but it was their only alternative. They couldn’t keep him, they couldn’t call the cops, they couldn’t just let him go, and Leonard didn’t want to kill him. Well, he did. But not now. So they’d have to...incapacitate him for a while.

“Based on what I’ve seen, I’d guess you’ve got about a half hour before it starts to kick in,” Leonard said, arching a brow. “If you can make it to the car, it’s been prepaid to take you to the wharfs.” Made no sense to show their full hand about knowing the gym. Could lure them into a false sense of security. Might make them overconfident. “You’ll come through it just fine.”

“I wouldn’t tell the Count you spoke with us, if you value your life. Not only did you fail,” she reminded him as she emptied the bag into her hand, “but you were made, caught, and broken.”

Leonard stepped up beside her, grabbing Adrian’s jaw to hold it open and still as Sara placed the pills on the back of his tongue. They held him still until he swallowed, then Sara cut the laces tying him to the chair. Leonard helped him to the door, but before releasing him into the alley, he took the opportunity to hiss in his ear.

“Don’t ever come to my club again.”

They threw him into the alley and locked the door behind him.

* * *

Caitlin paced in the guest room, tugging at the neck of her shirt.

No, Harry’s shirt.

It was a t-shirt she’d never seen him wear, in a blue that would make his eyes look amazing. He was a giant compared to her, so it hit her mid-thigh and covered more than some of her usual pajamas. But she still felt awkward moving around Harry’s apartment in it, even if she was dying of thirst.

For water.

Obviously.

Giving in, she cracked the door open, seeing the tiled hallway was empty, no light coming from beneath the door at the end of the hall, which would be Harry’s room. The guest room she was staying in was between his room and what was usually Jesse’s. He’d shown her where the bathroom was, and given her a shirt to sleep in when she told him she had nothing else. As he went to grab it, she caught a glimpse of his bedroom, with the large bed, unmade grey comforter half on the floor, and that little bit of messiness seemed so personal, so unlike his work persona that she’d looked away until he came back.

She walked quietly across the floor, not tip-toeing, per say, just trying not to disturb him. There was a faint light in the kitchen, enough for her to see the cabinet where he’d pulled a glass down from. She filled it from the tap, taking a sip to quench her ridiculous thirst, and turned towards the table.

Where a figure suddenly moved.

Caitlin squeaked and dropped the glass. It shattered against the tile floors and she jumped back, her foot landing on a jagged piece and slicing deeply. She reached down, but the glass tore against her fingers and she cursed quietly, tears springing to her eyes.

“Snow, don’t move.”

Harry, because it was obviously him, stood from the kitchen table where he’d been working on the tablet, the glow subtle enough that she hadn’t seen him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Give me a minute.”

So she stood there, an inelegant flamingo of disaster, one foot off the ground while Harry disappeared for a moment, coming back wearing shoes and carrying a broom. Eyeing the situation, he huffed and put the broom to the side.

He crossed over to her, the glass crunching beneath his shoes and grabbed her hips. She steadied herself on his forearms automatically, and the slightest lift of his brows was the only warning she got before he hoisted her onto the counter and out of harm’s way.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his tone as apologetic as he got, which was only barely so.

“I was stupid for being scared of you. In your own apartment.”

Harry smirked at her as he swept up the glass. Caitlin made a face at him, then winced at her hand throbbed.

“Here,” he said, resting the broom on the side and handing her a paper towel.

She thanked him, pressing it against the cut. It didn’t look deep, but it kept bleeding.

Harry finished cleaning the glass, discarding the shards. Turning to Caitlin, he opened a drawer and pulled out a band aid.

“Let’s see the damage, Snow,” he murmured. He grabbed her ankle, his hands rasping over her skin. She yelped and put her good hand on the counter to stabilize herself. Harry’s grin was unrepentant, but his hands were gentle as he put pressure on the sole of her foot.

Caitlin sat up again, glancing at her hand. It had finally stopped bleeding.

“Sorry about your glass,” she said.

“You can buy me a new one.”

“Are you serious?”

Harry smiled at her. “Yes.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“I know.” He finished with her foot and stepped between her legs, taking her hand. His eyes were lowered to her palm, focused on her cut the same way he focused on his work.

He grabbed another band aid without looking and smoothed it over her palm.

“What’s the prognosis, Dr. Wells?” she asked. “Am I going to live?”

He smiled at her palm. “I believe so, Snow. Might scar a little.”

She shrugged. “Won’t be my first and I’m sure it won’t be my last.”

Harrison went very still and Caitlin was suddenly aware of her lack of clothing, and how closely he was standing to her. His hands were warm on her wrist as he finished placing the bandage, then turned her arm over, his tips of his fingers running up her arm to her elbow.

“Funny, because I don’t see any scars here.” He continued the examination up to where the sleeve of his overlarge shirt began, then did the same thing on the other side.

“And none here, either,” he murmured.

Caitlin’s stomach was doing swoops in her middle, her breath coming a little faster, but she fought to keep it quiet.

His fingers left her for a moment, then reappeared at the neck of the shirt, running up her neck so lightly she wasn’t even sure it was real. She tipped her head back as he touched her chin, his thumb hovering above the hollow in her throat, where she was certain he could feel her pulse fluttering without any sense of decorum.

“None here either,” he said, stepping even nearer, not touching her except for his fingers, but she could feel the heat of his body between her legs and up her chest.

“Harry,” she whispered, her eyes fighting to slip closed, but she refused to let them.

There was a flicker of a smile in his dark eyes as he stared down at her, his thumb moving along her cheek. “I had to see if this was even possible. I had to try. But say the word and I’ll stop, Snow.”

Caitlin leaned into his hand, not taking her eyes away from his. “Don’t stop.”

He leaned down, slowly, stopping a breath away from her lips, like he was waiting for something or trying to figure something out.

Figure out how this worked. It was really simple, actually. They fit together perfectly. And for once, Caitlin beat him to the answer.

She lifted up just slightly, brushing her lips against his. Harry inhaled sharply, and Caitlin broke away for a moment.

Harry followed her, his arm sliding around the small of her back and tugging her forward against him. Caitlin gasped against his mouth, her legs hooking behind his knees. His other hand threaded through her hair, tilting her head up towards his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he took the unspoken command, his arm lowering enough to hoist her up.

He could do it one-handed. Why the hell was that a turn on?

Caitlin rolled her hips slightly, and Harry used a word she’d never heard him use before.

“You do that again and we aren’t going to make it to the bedroom,” Harry whispered against her lips.

Grinning up at him, Caitlin licked her lips, tasting scotch and coffee and something ionized. Harry’s breath was coming shorter as he watched her.

Caitlin rocked her hips again.

Harry cursed and kissed her again, stealing her breath as he pressed her against the wall.

They did not make it to the bedroom.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Len's morning.  
> Caitlin and Harry's morning.  
> Staff meeting.

Sara woke up slowly, suddenly alert despite the late - early? - hour. Getting her bearings, she exhaled slowly, her arm curled under the pillow beneath her head and the blankets tangled around her hips.

Despite her preferences, both she and Leonard had been exhausted when they got upstairs. After they wedged the side door closed - it looked like Adrian had to pick the lock - and disposed of the rest of the Vertigo, they’d trudged upstairs. She’d used the bathroom after Leonard had changed into sweatpants, but when she came back out, Leonard was already asleep, his phone next to his hand. She grinned tiredly, knowing better than to take it personally. She plugged his phone in and got into the other side of the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

From the angle of the light, it was late. At least noon, even if the dark curtains blocked out almost all of it. She stretched to grab her phone to confirm, but there was a shift from behind her and she stopped.

“Everything okay?” Leonard murmured behind her. His voice was, if possible, lower than usual, sleep hovering at the edges of his words. He moved again, and she could feel his breath on her shoulders.

“Fine,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the early hour just yet.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Didn’t meant to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” His hand brushed her arm, apparently as a soothing gesture, but the second he touched her, it was like the kiss all over again - her nerves were alight, her heart stuttered, and her eyes closed, at just such a simple touch.

Leonard must have felt something, because he removed his hand from her skin immediately. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No,” she said, still barely above a whisper, still not turning around to look at him, because some things were easier to say without having to stare into his eyes when she said them. She meant to say something like ‘Don’t be sorry’ or ‘Don’t apologize,’ but instead, what came out was -

“Don’t stop.”

In the beat of heavy silence that followed, Sara considered retracting her words. But she kept her mouth shut, knowing that she wanted this. Now it was up to him.

Leonard’s inhale was nearly silent, but she heard it nonetheless. The touch of his palm along her shoulder, and running slowly down her arm, the wide hand covering her skin completely, the tips of his fingers brushing along her ribs and waist, it was all so innocent, but Sara felt her heart beating in her throat, her stomach tightening with anticipation.

He continued, dipping below the blanket and reaching her hip, the shorts not a significant obstacle, and his fingers tightened briefly, before smoothing down her thigh and back up slightly, blunt nails scraping gently across her skin. The noise that Sara made couldn’t be called a moan, per say, it was too quiet, but Leonard heard it.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, still pulling his hand back up, nails dragging across her thigh, her hip, her stomach, pushing the scant tank top up with his journey until he reached the curve of her breast, his fingers dancing along the swell, coaxing another quiet, not-quite moan out of her, as he gently tugged and twisted.

Anxious for some relief, Sara rolled her hips, her eyes still closed. Leonard’s free arm slipped under her shoulders, taking over, and pulling her against his chest, as his hand returned to her hip, running along her briefs to the center where she was already wet, just from those slight touches.

Leonard’s groan was loud in the quiet, and his hips pressed against hers, hard and just the right amount of friction against his hand. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic cotton, pressing firmly against her, and Sara couldn’t keep her voice down any longer.

“Len,” she moaned, pressing against his hands, his hips, desperate and needing him. Her arm reached back, her nails scraping against his short hair, and eliciting another muffled curse from him, the other followed his hand down, giving him the slight guidance he needed.

“Jesus, Sara,” he hissed in her ear. “Yes, my Sara…”

His mouth pressed against her shoulder, alternating kisses with gentle bites, and his arm was a vise around her chest, keeping her molded against him, and making it impossible not to feel how he was reacting. His hips rolled against hers in time with his hand, and Sara’s grip tightened as she held on, the edge approaching faster than she expected.

“Come on, Sara-love, come on,” he kept up the murmuring in her ear, his teeth pulling at her as she pressed against him as tightly as she possibly could, hanging onto him until she was certain she’d leave bruises. “Fuck, come on, Sara…”

She fell, his name lost amid the sighs and moans of her climax. Leonard held her against him as she shuddered and shook, his words not registering in her ears until a good few seconds later.

Exhaling slowly, she rolled onto her back, and Leonard lifted himself up, leaning over her and pushing her hair out of her face. She could see the thousand thoughts rampaging through his head, the desire to talk about what had happened and the pros and cons lists she knew he was making already. Talking would maybe answer some things, but it would complicate everything, and right now, she knew all she needed to know.

So before he could say a single word, she looped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her lips.

God, kissing him would never get old. His mouth, clever and hot in his speech, was exactly the same during kissing. Sara’s tongue darted in, tasting whatever words made it to his mouth and replacing them with obscenities and only thoughts of her in this bed, right now. He grabbed her hips with both hands, holding her steady beneath him as he rolled against her repeatedly, until Sara was nearly senseless with want, her greedy hands tracing over every defined muscle and scar, and she was sure she’d be able to draw each line perfectly, he was so ingrained in her mind.

Her hands reached the sweatpants he’d worn to bed and she started to push them down, when his phone went off, the loud ringing startling both of them.

Leonard pulled back slightly, his breath coming shorter. Had it been another day, she might have told him to ignore it, but considering everything that was going on, it was probably safer. She jerked her head towards the phone, her own breath coming short.

Leaning to the side, he grabbed his phone, answering it with a curt, “What?”

_ “Good morning to you, too, boss. _ ” Mick’s voice was loud and distinct enough that Sara could hear it just fine. She grinned, half in frustration, half in actual humor that they’d wasted their night in sleep. She leaned her head back and Leonard bent down almost immediately, pressing his lips to her exposed throat, his tongue darting against her skin. She kept the noises she wanted to make trapped behind her lips, closing her eyes.

_ “Just calling to give you a heads up we’re downstairs.” _

Leonard stilled. “We?”

_ “Staff meeting. You’re gonna fill us in.” _

Even here, Sara knew Mick wasn’t messing around, and there was no getting out of this. It was time everybody knew what was going on.

_ “So, you and Blondie put on some pants and get down here, or I’ll send Palmer up.” _

Squeezing his eyes shut, Leonard said, “We’ll be down in five,” and hung up. After a breath, he looked at her.

Their friends were downstairs, waiting. So she ignored the way her lungs were panting and how her hips were arching to meet his, and met his eyes, the icy blue nearly swallowed by black as he stared down at her.

“I’m going to kill him,” Leonard murmured.

Sara laughed, drawing a reluctant smile out of him. “We have five minutes. I can get dressed very quickly.”

She saw him consider it for a half second, then he shook his head and rolled off of her. “Not a chance. I want to take my time with you and five minutes is not nearly enough for what I have planned.”

“Promises, promises,” Sara said, running her fingers through her hair to get herself back into a semblance of control.

Leonard grabbed her hand before she could roll out of bed, catching her eye. “Not a promise, Lance. A guarantee.”

A shiver went down her spine and Sara couldn’t breathe until Leonard looked away, shutting the bathroom door behind him. Swinging her legs off the bed, Sara exhaled slowly, her blood still singing in her veins.

Now she kinda wanted to kill Mick, too.

* * *

She was sore.

It had apparently been longer than Caitlin realized since she’d been with anyone. There had been a few dotted here and there since Ronnie had died, but no one she felt comfortable enough to keep a relationship with. It had been hard to get close to anyone. No one understood.

She rolled onto her side, smiling into the faint aches and sleeping face of Harrison Wells.

Almost no one.

Last night had been what felt like a grande finale to the overtures of the past few weeks. Maybe Sara had been correct in guessing he’d been jealous of the boys dogging her for her number. She didn’t know what the spark was that had gotten Harry to make his move, but she was thrilled with it.

She slipped out of the bed, ignoring the late hour, and decided to make coffee. It took her longer than she’d expected to find the shirt Harry had loaned her - it was in the hallway, left where Harry had nearly torn it off of her before he...Caitlin pressed her hands to her warm face and went into the kitchen.

As the coffee began to brew, she stared out the window, her chin in her hand as she leaned over the counter, her thoughts not nearly as jumbled as she would have expected. She and Harry made sense together. Work wouldn’t change, other than Cisco tormenting both of them. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wouldn’t have initiated this if he wasn’t serious about it. One night stands were fine, but they were friends and colleagues and worth more than one night together.

Even if that one night had been spectacular.

She heard him shifting in the bedroom several minutes before he came out. The coffee finished and she had two cups waiting by the time he appeared, his feet stomping louder than normal. She eyed him, amusement and irritation in equal measures as he approached.

“I didn’t want to startle you again,” Harry said in lieu of a good morning. “You already owe me enough for the first glass and the use of my shirt.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned, reaching for the other cup of coffee. She moved it out of his grasp. “No, coffee isn’t for jerks.”

He chuckled, leaning down and placing his hands on either side of the counter next to her, his thumbs brushing her sides. “Come on, Snow. I’ll be good.”

“I don’t think you know the meaning of the word.”

“Sure I do.” He moved closer, his chest brushing against the mug she held between them, as if such an ineffective shield would keep him at bay.

“Good. Adjective.” The smirk became invisible as he bent down, his breath brushing her ear and neck. “It means favorable. Suitable. Pleasant. Of a noticeably large size-”

She gaped and pushed him back. He allowed himself to rock back, the other mug of coffee in his hands.

“You’re terrible.”

“Objectively true. But all the best things are terrible for you, in too large a quantity. Drugs, alcohol, rich food, mind-blowing orgas-”

“Do you ever stop?” she laughed. It had been a long time since she’d seen him quite this...happy.

“Not as of yet.” He smiled, sipping his sweetened coffee and the energy seemed to redirect. “What are the plans for today?”

Caitlin finished her coffee, taking a moment to think. She went to the sink and rinsed it, reaching up to grab the small towel hanging off a cabinet. “I can’t go back to the apartment until Sara deals with these guys, and I don’t really want to go back to work until I have clean clothes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing now.”

Caitlin arched a brow at him, realizing the shirt had ridden up a bit higher than she’d expected. Harry’s eyes were dark again as he watched her move around the kitchen, and she decided staying on the opposite side of the counter might be in her best interest for the moment.

“There is if I want to go to work.”

“Take a couple days off.”

“Harry-”

“Caitlin.”

The shiver was completely unintentional, though she knew his use of her name wasn’t. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d used her first name, until last night, when she’d been on top of him, moving too slowly for his liking and he’d grabbed her hips and-

She cleared her throat, but he spoke first.

“Take a couple of days off, with me. You can’t go home yet, we shouldn’t go to work, it’s the holidays, and I would much rather have you in my bed right now. Or the couch. The shower. I’m not picky.” He moved around the counter, but she circled with him, staying on the opposite side.

“I have things I need to get-” she said, but they both knew she had lost this argument, even if she hadn’t admitted it yet.

“I’ll go in tomorrow and pick them up for you.” He dumped his coffee in the sink and turned back to her.

“Why not today?” she asked, knowing the answer and trying not to smile.

“There are a lot of untested surfaces in this apartment,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he stared at her, “and we both know I am all about being thorough.”

Caitlin arched a brow, then heaved an exasperated sigh she didn’t feel. “Fine. But I’m getting all my clothes washed today.”

Harry’s grin was entirely wicked as she quirked her mouth at him. “Deal.”

“ _ All _ of them,” Caitlin repeated gently, before pulling the shirt she was wearing off in one smooth move, rewarded with the sight of Harry’s jaw dropping slightly before she turned and started back to the bedroom.

The couch was almost as comfortable as the bed.

* * *

Leonard shrugged. “And that’s about it.”

Zari, Charlie, Mick, and Ray all stared at him, their eyes darting over to Sara periodically, clearly trying to come to terms with everything they’d just told them over the past forty-five minutes. Everything he’d done over the past year to make sure that Gaudia remained as safe as possible, what he’d discovered, who he’d had to become to protect them. Sara had told them everything, too. Her real job, her encounters with the Count and his men, the fact that she was being targeted and, slightly glossed over, why.

“So,” Ray said slowly, resting his elbows on the table in the employee’s lounge, “you’re saying that...you’re together?”

“That’s all you’re taking from this?” Leonard asked dryly, ignoring Sara’s laughter next to him.

“When exactly did you get together?” Charlie pressed. “Because if it was the New Year, Z here owes me twenty bucks.”

“You’re all fired.”

Zari rolled her eyes at him, her smile tugging at her lips. “Not a chance, boss. So what’s the plan?”

“Starting tonight, we stake out the Count’s place. I want two of us on the gym at all times. Movements change every day, teams mixing up, so Adams can’t get a bead on who’s where.” Sending Adrian back to the wharfs all but guaranteed they’d abandon whatever they had left over there and it cut their work in half.

“Leaves us a little short-handed here,” Ray observed.

“I’ve called in some backup,” Mick grumbled from the side. “We’ll be covered.”

Ray got a huge grin on his face. “You called Nate?!”

Charlie sighed in annoyance, but Leonard didn’t miss the faint tinge of color that spread across Zari’s cheeks.

“Nate, Jax, and Rip. They’ll be here tonight.”

“Everyone is on guard,” Leonard reminded them, lowering the excitement level. “No one walks home. If you’re not here, you’re checking in every fifteen minutes. And if you think, even for a second, you’re being watched or followed, call Sara.”

Mick look outraged for all of a half second, then begrudgingly nodded.

“Any questions?” Leonard looked around at his friends, and then all looked right back at him, unafraid. “Good. Then let’s get ready for tonight. Zari and Ray, you’re heading out to the gym just before when open. Sara will give you the address. I have to make a call.”

He nodded once at Mick, silently thanking him for taking the steps he had. It was better if everyone knew, especially now.

When he got back to his office, he went to his office and slumped into the chair by the window, closing his eyes for just a moment. He wasn’t physically tired - his ill-timed night of sleep had done away with his exhaustion - but he was tired of this nonsense. He was tired of looking over his shoulder and he was tired of not having any time to himself.

The only thing worse than not having any time with Sara was having just enough to get him addicted. It was all he could think about, the way she tasted and sounded, her lips on his, and-

Exhaling slowly, he got himself to focus again, and picked up his phone.

_ “Hello?” _ A rough, accented voice answered, familiar enough to Leonard to know who he was speaking to.

“Hello, Zytle.” Leonard’s voice dropped lower, colder.

_ “Captain...to what do I owe the pleasure?” _

He and Zytle had a complicated relationship. While Leonard didn’t approve of what Zytle dealt in, he respected the man’s loyalty to his family and his code of honor, even if it differed from Leonard’s. It was this code he was counting on now.

“I’ve come into some information, and I’m willing to make a deal.”

He could hear Zytle’s smile.  _ “Oh? What kind of deal?” _

“The kind where I save your ass, and you keep drugs out of my club.”

_ “You want out, Captain? Scared to deal with us?” _

“I’m tired of the cops at my doorstep, Zytle. I’m tired of getting rid of bugs almost weekly. I’ve made my mark on this town, and I’m done clawing among the dogs in the pits.”

_ “No, you’d rather be a king in your club.” _ A trace of bitterness that Leonard pocketed away for later. Maybe he’d make another deal with Zytle when this was done.

“Better a king than another rival, isn’t it? You know I don’t deal, so there’s no need to worry about a competitor.”

_ “Another gang-” _

“I didn’t say just your drugs.”

Zytle was quiet for a moment, long enough to be considering it. Taking Gaudia out of his territory would be detrimental to Zytle’s income, but they both knew it wasn’t significant enough to get into a war over it.

_ “So you want me to keep all gangs out of Gaudia? All drugs?” _ Zytle scoffed, and Leonard knew they’d entered the bargaining stage. _ “What do I get out of this?” _

“You get to survive.”

Zytle fell silent again, and Leonard waited.

_ “If your information is good, and worth it, then we have a deal.” _

“Adams is making a move against you,” Leonard said without further ado. “Today. Him and his dozen or so lieutenants. They have two safehouses, one at the wharfs and one at a place formally called Ted’s Gym in the slums.”

_ “Bastard.” _

“You know I have no love for dealers, but I would rather you over Adams. Take the warning. If I’m right, if they come after you, you’ll honor your side. If I’m not, keep Gaudia.”

_ “I’ll consider it. How’d you come across this information?” _

“I had an uninvited guest last night.”

_ “Fools.” _ Zytle laughed. _ “I’ll let you know what happens, Captain, one way or another. Goodbye.” _

“Zytle,” Leonard said, the name coming out before he stopped himself.

There was no answer, but no dial tone, either.

_ “Adams’s drug, if they inject it, get your men to a hospital. It’ll kill them.” _

Zytle was quiet, then reluctantly said,  _ “If Adams is sending men to your door, then I’m not the only one on his list.” _

“I’m well aware. Goodbye.”

_ “Goodbye.” _

Leonard lowered the phone, and a mug of coffee landed next to him. He looked up, not entirely surprised to see that Sara had snuck in without his noticing. She was dressed in a skirt that he’d seen Charlie wear a few times, and a black shirt that could have come from anyone, but her usual flowered wrap was on her shoulders.

“Is he going to take the warning?” she asked, obviously aware of what Leonard had done.

“Zytle is many things, but he’s not stupid. There’s a chance we won’t have to deal with Adams at all, depending on how hard Zytle strikes back.”

She hummed quietly, sipping her coffee and looking out the window. Leonard followed her gaze, relishing in the calm.

“Would it have worked?” she asked after a few minutes.

He looked at her, resting against his desk and lifting the mug of coffee to her lips. “Would what have worked?”

“Adams’s plan. Would you have signed Gaudia over?” The question sounded casual, but she didn’t meet his eyes entirely, they kept sliding down his face, or past him to the view outside. It was out of character for her to be hesitant, and he took too long in responding. She started talking again, that faint nervousness rearing its head.

“I just...if that was all it took, taking someone from here, why wouldn’t they have done that months ago?” she clarified, taking another sip.

“I’ve been careful,” he answered, watching her place the mug down on the desk. “Kept a distance. Kept my reputation. They believe that I wouldn’t have signed it over. Not for anyone.”

“What about Mick?”

Her tongue darted out, and that seemed to be all he could focus on for a minute. He took a breath, placing his mug on the small table next to him. “God help the poor soul who tried to take Mick anywhere.” He got to his feet.

Sara tensed, straightening slightly, her fingers wrapping around the lip of the desk. Without her usual heels, she was shorter than he expected. “Then why would they think it would work with me?”

“Because it’s different with you,” he said. He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound like that. Soft. He hadn’t meant for his feet to guide him forward to her, but here he was, inches from her, staring down at her, her hair over her shoulder in loose, soft curls.

She blinked, chewing on her lip.

“Ask me,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Why is it different with me?”

“Because you saw me, even when I gave you every excuse to look away.” It seemed such an insignificant thing, but it was the most any stranger had ever given to him - the benefit of the doubt. Zari, Charlie, and Ray, even they had believed the worst at the beginning, but they had nowhere else to go. Sara had seen the worst possible thing and still stayed, still hoped for him. Though it wasn’t his style, he wanted to live up to her expectations, because they didn’t involved changing who he was - just becoming the best version of himself.

Her mouth tilted up at the side. “Maybe I just really love your club.”

“I know you do.”

She did love Gaudia, the same way he did. The past it was built on, the people he helped here, those who worked here, what it had become - a symbol that not everything dark was bad. And that even if parts of it were bad, they were still worthwhile. What he’d overcome to get here. And that’s why he would never give it up. Not for anything.

Except Sara, who was everything Gaudia represented and more.

Leonard leaned down the scant inch between the two of them, kissing her softly, the way their first kiss should have gone. Gentle and slow, full of the promises he was too realistic to make, just in case. He kept his hand on her jaw, not letting it wander. When he pulled away, she breathed out shakily, and opened her eyes to reveal the blue nearly swallowed by black.

“I love you, Snart,” she whispered.

He smiled, constantly amazed and surprised by this woman. And for once, the words didn’t seem to get caught in his throat. “I love you, too, Lance.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard and Sara make an agreement.  
> Nate and Zari give Sara some much needed time off.  
> Zytle calls back.

Leonard kept his gaze steady, staring Sara down at the bar. She was glaring right back at him, her blue eyes sparking.

“You aren’t serious,” she said, her voice and fists tight.

“You aren’t going to take a shift watching Adams,” Leonard repeated, doing his best to keep his words calm. “They’re already going after you. I’m not about to leave you on their doorstep.”

Ray and Charlie shifted awkwardly at the bar, watching Sara glare at him. Zari was in the back, talking with Nate, Rip and Jax, letting them know what they would be responsible for in the coming days. It had been only a few hours, and Leonard was already remembering why he didn’t keep in close contact with Rip. The man was unbearable.

“I’m the best choice to watch them. I have the training,” she insisted, with a wave of her hand. Leonard noted the scars on her hands and arms, and knew she was right. But so was he.

Mick, surprisingly, leaned forward. “If Adams is looking for you, and you ain’t here, he’s going to look a little harder. Be safer for those of us out there, if you’re here, keeping their eye.”

“A distraction,” Charlie murmured. “Not a bad plan.”

Sara’s eyes cut over and Leonard saw her weighing the idea. Finally, she sighed and nodded. “Fine.”

Letting out a silent breath of relief, Leonard turned to Mick. “You ready?”

“I’m off. See you later.” He shook Leonard’s hand a little too tightly, then grabbed his jacket and headed out the side door, taking the first night watching Adams’s place. Ray’s eyes followed Mick as he left, before he looked back at the others.

“Right. Now what?”

“We open in an hour,” Leonard reminded him, walking towards his office. “Get ready.”

Several hours later, Gaudia was its usual bustling, bombastic self, and Leonard was lurking around, making sure Rip and Jax handled the crowd as usual. Nate had been chatting with Zari as they walked the crowds, and was set to relieve Sara for a break a little later. Charlie was grinning a little more wildly than usual, but the music was perfect and the crowd was responding.

The bar was packed, and before Leonard took a seat, he did a round, checking wrists for tattoos and knowing Sara and Zari were doing the same. As far as he could tell, there weren’t any of the Count’s cronies here tonight, at least not yet. Or at least not ones with tattoos. He checked his phone again as he sat down, seeing that Zytle still hadn’t called back and wondering if the Count had changed his mind.

Sara placed a drink in front of him, a faint smile on her lips. He nodded at her, unable to muster up a similar smile, but appreciating her efforts. She cocked her head at him, a skeptical look on her face. With a slight lean, she put her hand on his wrist.

“We’re gonna get him.”

Leonard scoffed faintly, with a faint nod.

“Len,” she repeated. “We going to get him.”

He smiled, turning his hand beneath hers to run his fingers along her palm. “I know.”

Sara squeezed his hand, then returned back to her work, a quick smile on her face, confident and at ease.

He knew she was right. They would get him, one way or another. Either before Adams made his move, and everyone would be walking away just fine. Or after Adams made his move, and Leonard would make certain Adams wasn’t walking away from anything.

He sipped his drink and kept watch over his club and his people.

* * *

Zari smiled at Sara as she entered the bar, a tall man with impressive hair behind her.

“Have you met Nate?” Zari said.

Sara shook her head, “No, I haven’t. Hi. Sara Lance.”

He shook her hand, grinning. “Nice to meet you!”

“I thought you were Leonard’s investor or something.”

“I am.” His smile was wide and his eyes kind. “But I used to be a bartender here, when it first opened. Snart helped me out and when I took over my dad’s business, I didn’t forget that.”

Sara smiled back at him, then cast a knowing look at Zari.

She immediately blushed and spoke quickly, “Well, we’re taking over for your break. Go away. See you in an hour.”

Sara laughed, waving at them as she grabbed her glass and wove her way through the crowd to the employee’s door. As it slid shut behind her, she sighed in relief at the cool air in the hallway. There must have been more bodies than usual in the club, because it was hot in there. She didn’t feel tired, or hungry, despite the late hour. She felt like she was waiting for something, she just didn’t know what. Skipping dinner, she made her way up the stairs, bypassing Leonard’s door and heading toward the catwalk above the club.

As the music washed over her, she sighed in relief, the air cooler up here, but the sound still rumbling through her bones, working at the edge of her nerves. She rested her hands on the railing, watching the masses below. She could see Charlie killing it at the stage, Ray taking over the tablet for Zari. The bar was still packed and she saw Nate and Zari working well together. The crowd seemed well-managed, despite the stick that seemed to be up the Brit’s ass all the time. Though she wasn’t really looking for him, not entirely, she couldn’t seem to find Leonard among the crowd.

The catwalk door opened, the sound swallowed up by the music. Sara glanced over just enough to confirm that it was Leonard who was walking out to her, a short distance away from the door. Then she turned her eyes back to the crowd with a smile, anticipation sliding into her belly.

She felt the heat of him before he put his hands on her hips, pressing up behind her. Rolling her neck to the side, she grinned as he took advantage of the exposed skin, his teeth scraping across the muscle at her shoulder. Sara rocked her hips slightly, maybe an attempt at dancing, and Leonard anchored her hips to his, his fingers tight on her.

Twisting away, Sara turned to face him, her back pressing against the railing. He let go of her, his hands grabbing the railing on either side of her. His features were shadowed up here, silhouetted by the stars around them, but she could read the expression that mirrored her own - the want, the love, the damn impatience. They didn’t need any more words at this point. Everything important had already been said.

Sara kissed him, her tongue pressing against his lips and he parted them immediately. She tasted everything uniquely him on her tongue, ignoring the faint discomfort from the railing behind her as he stepped nearer to her, sealing everything from ankles to lips together, not an inch of space to separate them and still far too much. One of his hands was in her hair, the other at her hip, edging beneath the shirt she was wearing. The music swept around them, silencing any noises they might be making and forcing them to feel the sounds instead, the rumble in his chest as she bit his lip, the staccato of her breath as he pulled her hair slightly, exposing more of her to his wandering lips, the vibration beneath her fingers as she hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled-

They shifted down the walkway, towards the door of the catwalk, but as Leonard went to open it, to lead her somewhere private, Sara shook her head, flipping the faint light above the catwalk off and locking the door. Here, against the wall next to the door, with the light off, no one would see them, and she wanted him here, among the music, amid the stars.

Backing her against the wall, Leonard kissed her until she was dizzy, his mouth so unfairly talented. Sara’s breath came short, but she returned the favor undoing the button on his slacks and slipping her hand down and around him.

Even with the music, she heard his swear then.

She stroked up and down slowly, her hand seeming cool in comparison, until Leonard grabbed her thighs in both hands and lifted her up. It was an awkward few moments as they shifted, and he pulled her underwear to the side and she moved to the left and-

They both went still as he slid in slowly, holding their breath until he filled her completely. Sara took in a shallow breath, catching his eyes, even in the dark. He smiled, wonder in his gaze and kissed her gently.

It had never felt like this before. Not with anyone.

Then Charlie dropped the bass, and the vibrations slid through both of them in a new and unexpected way. They moved together, her arms around his shoulders and his hips pinning her to the wall, slowly at first, but rising and falling with the music around them. It was fast, both of them approaching the edge they’d been dancing around the past few weeks. Leonard seemed to get harder within her, obviously close, but he gave up the momentum long enough to slide a hand between them, his thumb finding the same spot he’d drove her insane with this morning. Stars, both literal and imagined, danced in Sara’s eyes, but she focused on Leonard’s gaze, unable to hear, but wanting to see and feel him.

He came first, the groan inaudible, but she saw the way his eyes blew out, felt him shudder within her. He pressed harder against her, and the combination was enough to send her falling, the stars winking out temporarily.

Once her legs weren’t jelly, she slid off of him, taking the tissue he’d pulled out of his pocket - so handy - and cleaned up. He tucked himself away, letting out a long breath. Sara unlocked the door and they both went onto the stairs, the quiet sudden and strange.

Before she could get back to the bar, Leonard grabbed her arm, pulling her back against him and kissing her so thoroughly she wondered if they’d have enough time for round two. When he pulled away, he exhaled against her lips and said, “Tonight, I’m gonna pay you back for that.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?” she asked, brow arched.

The glare was scathing, but she just grinned at him.

“Payback’s a bitch, Lance,” he said, letting go of her arm.

“Looking forward to it.”

* * *

Leonard locked up the side door, relieved beyond measure to say goodbye to Rip. The Brit had been giving him dirty looks all night, obviously blaming him for everything that was going on. Having decided long ago not to waste the breath on explaining things to Rip, Leonard dealt with the looks and hustled Rip out the door as quickly as possible.

Mick had checked in several times throughout the night, reporting movement from Adams’s place and sending tons of pictures of faces. Leonard sent them to Sara and the others, so they could keep an eye out for them. He didn’t recognize any of them offhand, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but he sent copies to himself, too.

However, he wasn’t worried until he and Sara were getting ready for bed, and his phone went off.

Recognizing Zytle’s name, Leonard picked up, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Zytle. How’d it-”

_“He fucking did it.”_

“What?” he asked, leaning forward. Sara came out of the bathroom, a frown on her face at his tone.

_“He killed fifteen of my men. Eight more are in the hospital with that Vertigo shit.”_

“How the hell did he manage that?” Leonard said. He had expected Zytle to crush Adams, or at the very least survive it, but this was…

 _“I don’t know. Half my guys were knocked unconscious, and Adams swept in. I’m on my way out of town now.”_ Zytle’s voice had never sounded this frantic.

“He ran you out?”

_“He threatened my wife, Snart.”_

Leonard rubbed his eyes. “Jesus…”

_“I know. But what else could I do?”_

Looking up, he met Sara’s eyes, and quietly said, “I don’t blame you.”

 _“Take this bastard down, Captain, and I’ll keep everything out of your club. Hell, I’ll keep it out of the slums.”_ Zytle sighed into the receiver. _“Get rid of him.”_

“I will,” Leonard promised. He hung up, and looked at Sara.

“Adams succeeded?” she asked, taking a seat next to him.

“Apparently,” he muttered.

“Shit.” She sighed quietly. “So much for making our jobs easier.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh, well.”

Leonard scoffed, looking down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh well? That’s all you have to say about it?”

“What else would I say?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him, she pressed her thumb to his chin. “That we’re done? Screwed?” She arched her brow. “Forget that. If Zytle had taken him out, that would’ve been nice, but that doesn’t stop us. If you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself, right?”

He chuckled, her optimism and confidence catching. “You are...insane.”

Sara grinned up at him.

“I like it,” he admitted quietly.

“Good.”

She turned and straddled him, her arms over his shoulders, and a filthy smirk on her face. God, he wanted her. It was all that he wanted, but the looming threat of death from a threatening drug dealer kept distracting him for some reason.

“Mick is-”

“Mick can take care of himself, and we’ll leave your phone on loud,” Sara murmured, her lips brushing across his face. “We keep going with the plan. And for now, our place in the plan is right here, all night.” She kissed him slowly. “You’ve got somewhere else to be, boss?”

“I do not,” he murmured, letting her push him back onto the bed.

“Now,” Sara said, leaning over him, her hair falling over her shoulder. “I believe you said something about payback.”

* * *

Hours later, Sara watched the sunrise through the curtains, Leonard’s arm over her side, and his body tucked in behind hers. His breath tickled the back of her neck, but she didn’t mind. Her phone lit up, a message appearing on her screen. Moving slowly, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand, pulling it back over to her.

She hadn’t lied to Leonard last night. She fully believed that they’d be able to stop Adams. But that didn’t mean it would be done without consequences. She’d reached out to Caitlin after he’d fallen asleep, the lines disappearing from his eyes as he’d pulled her close against him.

Unlocking her phone, Sara read Caitlin’s message.

**I checked in on the men at the hospital. Five died during the night. Two are still in ICU, but they’re struggling to keep them stable.**

Sara chewed her lip. **Do you have an idea on how to cure this?**

**It’s manmade. I’ve been trying to develop something, but I won’t have the results until later today.**

**Okay. Anything else?** Like her day couldn’t get worse.

**There weren’t needle marks in the arms. They looked like darts. And the unconsciousness hasn’t been explained either.**

Great. So now they were weaponizing Vertigo, along with another drug. She was willing to bet they used Zytle as a practice before Gaudia, and it clearly went well. She sent one last text to Caitlin. **Find a cure. I think we’re running on borrowed time.**

**Be careful.**

Sara returned her phone to the nightstand, curling up a little closer to Leonard. His arm tightened around her in his sleep, and she tangled her fingers with his. She could feel it in her bones - Adams was going to be making a move on Gaudia, and soon. He’d do whatever he had to in order to get Leonard to sign Gaudia over.

Sara watched the sun light up the room, her resolution growing with the dawn. Adams wasn’t going to get anywhere near Leonard, even if she had to kill every single one of his men herself.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin heads to work.  
> Sara serves drinks.  
> Everything goes to hell.

Caitlin woke up slowly, still sore, but not as much as the day before. It had been a...different kind of day yesterday.

She and Harry had a late start yesterday, not that she minded. Even if their pillowtalk had focused more on theoretical physics, and none of her other relationships had whiteboards and markers available without leaving the bed. Only once they’d really started to starve did Harry finally deign to leave the bed, puttering around in the kitchen and returning with coffee, eggs, and toast, even though it was already after noon.

The rest of their day had been spent in a mix of things...the expected activities in bed, more discussion, talking about their families, which eventually led to talking about-

“How long has it been since Tess?”

Harry sighed quietly, capping his marker and sitting back against the headboard. The sun had gone down hours ago, and they should really be getting to sleep. “Eighteen years in March.”

“And since her, have you had any real relationships?” Caitlin wasn’t prying, and her questions weren’t meant to hurt, but to see where she fit in this. How she fit.

“Two fairly serious ones, but they were over years ago.” His thumb ran along the back of his ring finger, an unconscious gesture Caitlin hadn’t really understood until a year after Ronnie had died, and she finally stopped wearing her engagement ring. It was dark enough that had she been any further away, she might not have seen it at all. “It was my fault, I’d been trying to replace her, which is impossible. And I didn’t want to move on. I was better off alone than screwing it up with someone else.”

“And now?”

His mouth twitched downward slightly as he cut his eyes at her. “I’ve learned it’s not about moving on, because there will always be a part of me that loves her. That misses her.”

Caitlin got that. Ronnie would always be her first love. He would always matter to her, and no one could ever replace what he meant to her in her heart.

“But,” he said quietly, after a pause, where perhaps he’d expected her to balk or be disappointed by his statement, “there is a not insignificant part of me that loves someone else.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

Though she had certainly thought similar words herself, she hadn’t expected him to come so close to saying it aloud. Harrison Wells was many things, but open about his feelings was not one of them.

Caitlin smiled. “Well, it’s certainly lucky I turned down my mother’s offer to work with her and instead came to S.T.A.R. Labs, otherwise we never would have found one another.”

“I don’t believe in luck, Snow. We give whatever meaning we want to it, but nothing is purely from luck.”

She snorted, curling up next to him, and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure, Harry.”

She felt his lips press into her hair and smiled to herself. The contented blanket of sleep began to slide over her, and she shifted down, Harry following her, until they were ensconced in the blankets again, her head on his chest and his arm curled around her waist.

“Even with everything that happened,” she whispered in the darkness, “I’m grateful that we're here, together.”

His arm tightened around her. “Me too.”

The next morning had gone in a similar way, minus her conversation with Sara. Afterwards, she’d started voicing her concerns to Harry, who seemed very worried, but only until she mentioned her own feeling of helplessness - the possible antidote was still sitting and wouldn’t be ready until much later. Harry seemed bound and determined to distract her by exhausting her completely. It wasn’t until she was shutting her eyes for a nap that he mentioned heading into the lab for a while.

“I’ll go with you,” she insisted, starting to straighten.

He laughed, kissing her forehead. “I won’t be long. I’ll check on your antidote while I’m there. Text me what you want for dinner and I’ll pick it up before I get home.”

She liked the sound of that. Home.

Not entirely reluctantly, Caitlin settled back into her sheets, the texts from Sara forgotten until she woke up as the sun was going down. Guilt slammed into her - here she was, fooling around with Harry while people were dying. She appreciated Harry’s gesture, but she needed to go down to the lab herself and deal with this. Even if it meant staying there all night - with or without Harry.

She got dressed in her clean clothes, feeling a bit more like herself as she went downstairs and caught a cab, the rain that had been threatening all day seeming imminent. It was fully dark by the time she walked into the lab, heading toward the elevator.

A rumble sent her careening into the wall, pressure building up in her ears, and what sounded like a scream beginning from somewhere deep within the lab.

She swore, grabbing the wall as the building shook around her. “What the hell…?”

The last time this had happened, it had been the particle accelerator-

“No,” Caitlin whispered.

She ran to the elevator, then decided against it and went for the stairs, unable to help the scream that bubbled up in her throat.

“Harry!”

* * *

Gaudia was packed, almost to the level of New Year’s Eve. Sara was slinging drinks to the best of her ability, but with Zari on lookout tonight, Nate helping Ray and Jax deal with the crowd, Mick, Rip, and Leonard at the door, and Charlie in her usual, there wasn’t any time to catch a breath. Leonard hadn’t even made it to the bar to pick up his drink.

Sara chugged her water when she could, the club seeming hotter than normal as the minutes ticked on, and it was only shortly after opening.

There was some sort of celebration down at the end of the bar, a tall woman in a beautiful dress talking about some kind of promotion at her work.

“Drinks all around!” she shouted, much to the pleasure of all other ears.

She then leaned in to Sara, her card on her fingers, “But just make it the cheap beer, if that’s okay.”

Sara grinned, running the card and returning it after a quick glance, “Congratulations, Miss Ava Sharpe.”

Ava grinned and returned to her guests as Sara began tapping the most reasonable keg they had, giving Sharpe a discount on it nonetheless.

Sara downed the rest of her water, her throat parched as she passed out Ava’s generous gift to everyone who passed by, until most people had a drink in hand. There was finally a lull in the crowd, and she leaned against the bar, exhausted already.

Near the doors, she could see Leonard coming in, his own face pulled in a tired expression that he smoothed away almost instantly. His eyes sought hers in the crowd, and she gave him a small smile. A shout from the side of the bar reached her ears and she turned, expecting an irate college kid.

Instead, she saw a group gathered around a girl on the ground, concern on their faces as one of them knelt down next to her-

Before falling over himself, and collapsing beside her.

Screams rose up as people began stumbling, falling, dropping like stones - dozens of them. Glass shattered and the music paused as Charlie saw what was happening.

“I need everyone to calm down and if you’re feeling strange, sit down now!”

Sara looked around, Charlie’s words having no effect as the panic began to set it, people were rushing for the doors, pushing past one another, stepping on those who had already collapsed or dropping unexpectedly themselves.

“Calm the fuck down!” Charlie said, stepping out from behind the stage. A group surged past her and she stumbled, nearly landing in the middle of them.

Sara was already moving towards her, pushing past a girl as she stepped in the way.

The brown hair was familiar.

Sara froze as Willow looked up at her, her eyes red and filling with silver.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed, the Count’s tattoo visible on her wrist.

With a glare, Sara made to push past her, but Willow lunged to the right-

No, Sara listed to the left.

Her head spun, and she blinked against it - how?

She looked back at the bar, her phone next to her glass of water.

Praying Charlie could fend for herself, Sara turned, heading to the employee door, fighting against the masses and her own swimming vision, whatever drug had been dumped in her water - and the beer, apparently - acting faster with her accelerated heart rate.

But it was okay, if she could make it there, she could hole up away from the Count’s men, and it would be okay, she could see the door now-

The lights went out.

* * *

Caitlin was two flights down the stairs when the lights went out, but she knew this building better than her own home. She could navigate it in the dark.

This was why Harry had been researching it so much. The hypotheticals weren’t hypothetical at all, and she was a fool for believing that. All those attempts to be at work when she wasn’t, because they both knew that she could have fought against this tooth and nail.

She slammed open the door to the Pipeline, unsurprised but still hurt to see Harry standing there, his mobile computer station next to him, dark.

Lights whirled past him in the chamber, illuminating him in an ethereal, unnatural, golden glow - but it wasn’t there yet. He hadn’t managed it yet. There was time.

“Harry,” she said, the name ripping out of her as she approached him. She may know S.T.A.R. Labs intimately, but she hadn’t been down here in years. Not since-

“I need more time,” he said, refusing to look at her.

“You turned it on?” Caitlin asked, her eyes starting to swim as she forced herself to step nearer to the edge. To him.

He still didn’t turn, and she snapped at him. “Look at me, Harry!”

His head drooped slightly, but he turned and met her gaze, his aspect filled with regret, and apologies, and sorrow, and more that she couldn’t unpack just then and there.

“I had to turn it on, Snow,” he said quietly, still making it so he was heard over the machine. “For you. For Ronnie.”

The tears came forward now, for so many reasons that Caitlin didn’t understand completely, as the accelerator began to rise in pitch, the whine that haunted her nightmares for years now real again. “Ronnie’s dead!”

“He died for nothing if this experiment was a failure. My failure!”

Caitlin saw in that moment that the grief she had thought Harry had been dealing with all this time hadn’t been dealt with, but morphed into his blind motivation to finish this. She shook her head, unsure what to say, hating that she hadn’t seen this, hating that he hadn’t said anything.

He saw the look on her face and took a step towards her, his hands extended in supplication. “But I can fix it! I can help you, Snow. I can help Cisco. S.T.A.R. Labs won’t be a joke anymore! I can make it all mean something!”

The air was starting to churn around them, and she had to shout to be heard, not that she wouldn’t have been screaming now anyway.

“Ronnie’s death meant everything to me, so don’t you preach to me, Harrison Wells!” She stomped forward, tears flying from her cheeks as she stabbed him in the chest with a finger that shook. “I don’t care if the experiment works or not! I don’t care if the rest of the city hates us! I do care if you kill someone else I love!”

He stilled, staring down at her, his own eyes turning wet. “Snow-”

She curled her fingers into his sweater. “Turn it off, Harry. Please, turn it off.”

Harry covered her hands with his. “I...I can’t.”

Caitlin pulled away from him, then turned her eyes to the accelerator.

* * *

Sara stumbled through the crowd, looking for anyone she recognized, but her vision was blurring together, doubles and triples of everyone. With only the emergency lights, she could barely see anything, and the screaming didn’t help.

“Len?!” she tried to call out, but her voice was lost. She didn’t even know where he was.

She stumbled again, and fell to the ground, someone stepping on her fingers almost immediately. Forcing herself up, she grabbed whatever was near to get upright, and her fingers scraped across something metallic and heavy-

The employee’s door.

Fumbling for her key card, she brushed it over the sensor, but the power was out. She pulled, a noise of anger escaping her lips, and the door slid open - the locks disengaging in an emergency. But no one else knew that.

She shut the door behind her, resting against the wall, her body wanting to give in and collapse. She’d never made the trek up to Leonard’s apartment, but maybe she could make it to the lounge and lock the door…

The employee door creaked open, and Sara looked up to see a man standing there.

“Hello, Sara.”

She knew him...glasses...the Doctor...Adrian...she blinked hard, trying to shake away the blur, but his face swam in front of her eyes, the tattoo on his arm doubled…

A C with a line through it...two C’s.

Goddammit.

“You’re a Count, too,” she mumbled, hanging onto the wall.

He grinned. “Doctor Webb, at your service.”

He reached out to grab her arm, but Sara backed away, out of reach. Her vision was fading fast, but if she could just buy herself enough time...

Shaking his head, he merely looked amused. “I know my creations better than anyone. You’ve got ten more seconds of consciousness, max. I can wait.”

No, _no_ , she would not go out like this.

She turned, heading for the side alley door with a speed that surprised both of them. Webb swore, coming after her, getting close - too close-

Sara stumbled on unsteady legs, falling to her knee. Webb laughed behind her, and grabbed the back of her wrap, hauling her up as Sara reached down to her boot. She whirled, her knife slicing across his face - would have been his throat, but her aim was off. Still, Webb shouted, throwing her to the ground. The knife skittered across the ground, and as her vision went black, she saw Webb’s face, covered with red and still streaming.

Her last thought before unconsciousness claimed her was that at least she’d gone down fighting.

* * *

Leonard grabbed a girl’s arm, hauling her to her feet and helping her towards the door. As far as he could tell, the whole city had lost power for some reason, but outside in the moonlight was better than in his close club.

Mick had lunged back into the crowd, trying to protect those that had passed out, and Rip and Jax were stationed at the door, helping people get out and into the street. Leonard had texted Zari, checking in on her, but the message kept saying error - obviously everyone in the city was trying to reach friends and family.

“Snart!” Ray shouted, fighting against the crowd.

“Did you see Sara and Charlie?” Leonard asked, snatching his arm to keep him from getting lost as the crowd pushed and screamed against him.

“Charlie was helping drag the unconscious people to the wall, with Nate and Mick. Sara was at the bar last I saw her, but-”

Leonard’s hand tightened on his arm as Ray hesitated.

“...I haven’t seen her since.”

The last few screaming people had been removed from the club, and Leonard heard the doors locking behind them. Mick straightened from in front of the stage, Charlie with him, though her skirt was a little torn.

“Everyone okay?” Mick asked.

“Sara?” Ray shouted.

Leonard spun in a circle, not seeing her among the unconscious bodies. He leaned over the bar, his nerves rising as he saw her phone and nothing else.

“Maybe the lounge?” Charlie suggested.

“Jax, Nate, and Rip,” Leonard ordered, “Stay out here and keep trying to get through to emergency services.” He went for the employee door, noting that it wasn’t locked in the disaster. He had his phone out, the flashlight function adding some more light to the emergency ones in the hall. A step in and he paused.

The hallway was a mess. Boxes that had once been neatly stacked were thrown on the ground, the glass inside of them shattered and liquid seeping out onto the tile.

“What the hell happened?” Charlie whispered, coming in behind him.

A pit opened up in Leonard’s stomach. “Sara?” He took a few steps up the stairs, maybe she was just in the apartment...

“Is this...is this blood?” Ray’s tremulous question came from near the side door.

Turning back, Leonard got to Ray’s side, seeing a spray of crimson on the wall and floor - not enough to kill someone, but enough to leave a mark. A small blade was by the back door. One that he recognized, as it had rested on his nightstand just this morning.

The side door was ajar, rain sluicing down the alley, making the darkness seem all the darker. He stepped outside, as Mick came out of the employee lounge, shaking his head. They followed Leonard out, searching for anything. Mick bent over some tire marks in the middle of the alley, and Leonard turned, trying to find any sign that Sara-

He stopped, facing the door. Something was nailed into the wood, getting steadily more drenched. He took two steps toward it, his heart thundering in his ears. Leonard pulled the nail out, the sheer, flowered fabric wrinkled, wet, and torn already, but he recognized it.

“Oh, god,” Charlie whispered, covering her mouth.

Leonard spread out Sara’s wrap, a piece of paper fluttering out from between the folds. Mick picked it up as the rain started to smear the ink, reading in as close to a monotone as he could at the moment.

“‘You know what we want. We’ll contact you at midnight.’”

No threats. No promises of violence, because they already delivered those. With every attack on Gaudia, Adams had shown how far he’d go. By taking Sara, from the middle of Gaudia itself, right from between his hands, Adams had shown that Leonard was helpless to stop him.

Sirens were sounding from several blocks away, and Mick cursed. “You gotta go, boss.”

“But, if he runs, they’ll think he’s guilty,” Ray said, his face pale.

“They think he’s guilty already,” Charlie said, heading to the fire escape of the next building and looking up, testing the ladder. “If they get him, that just means no one’s able to answer the Count, and Sara’ll be…”

“Where are you going to go?” Ray asked, watching Mick head toward the ladder.

“Away from here,” Mick snapped. “Get Z back, and tell her she’s in charge. Keep everything under control. We’ll be in touch soon as the phones work again. Let’s go, boss.”

Leonard was still staring at the flowers.

“Snart!” Mick snarled, his hands wrapped around the wet ladder. “Move your ass! You get arrested, and you know what’ll happen to Blondie.”

He knew what would happen. What might already be happening.

He fell into step behind the Mick, the wrap clutched tightly in his fingers as he left Gaudia behind. Despite the fact that it wasn’t signed over, not yet, Leonard couldn’t stop the thought from running through his mind.

Adams had already won.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S.T.A.R. Labs gets some visitors.  
> Sara makes friends.  
> Leonard has a plan.

Caitlin rubbed her eyes, the ache of exhaustion, risking death for a second time, and stress of knocking out an entire city’s power not exactly conducive to sleep.

She heard a cup of coffee placed on the table to the left of her, but didn’t open her eyes. Leather creaked, and the couch depressed next to her. She opened her eyes, but didn’t look over.

“Power’s still out throughout the city,” Harry said, his voice detached. “Emergency services are on it, but they’re focusing on hospitals and police first. Then they’ll probably go for upper Central City and work their way down here. Our generator has enough power for weeks, but most others don’t.”

“How long will it take?” She picked up her coffee, still not looking at him.

“Two weeks is optimistic.”

She sighed. Cisco had long ago updated their phones, so they hadn’t lost contact with him. He was on his way in now, to help clean up this disaster.

The accelerator had worked. It was an amazing step forward in science, and S.T.A.R. Labs would be famous for it. Eventually.

“Snow,” Harry said quietly, putting his hand on her arm.

She got to her feet, pulling away from him. “Stop, Harry. I can’t right now. We need to fix the city.”

“I know, and we will, but I did this for-”

“If you say you did it for me, I might punch you in the face,” Caitlin interrupted, putting her coffee back down a little too hard.

He rose to his feet, his coffee left on the table behind him. His brows were drawn together and Caitlin should have found it imposing or threatening. Instead, it was only irritating right now.

“I was happy,” Caitlin said, spreading her hands out wide. “It wasn’t perfect, but I was happy. With work, with life, with you.”

“Snow-”

“And then you had to go and try to change the world again, and congratulations, you succeeded.” She wished the words didn’t sound so hollow, because it was amazing, it truly was. But they had been discovering something amazing between the two of them, too. And now it was...well, at the worst, it was broken beyond repair. The betrayal and the lying, that was something she’d never expected from Harry, despite his love of privacy. At best, it was on hold, put on the back burner, because work was more important and it was, honestly. But with Harry, it seemed that work was always more important than everything, and even though she knew that, she thought, for even just a moment, that maybe she was at least equal with work.

But now…

“We need to fix this,” she said, her shoulders sagging. “We’ll talk after.”

Harry crossed the room, and got in front of her. He didn’t take her hand or hold her, but his hands flexed at his side. “Part of me did do this for you, and Cisco. But the other part, the larger part...it was my work that killed people, Snow. People we both cared for. And I could barely live with myself. I didn’t know how you could possibly love me after what I’d done. It was selfish and cowardly. And if I had the chance, I wouldn’t turn it on again. I wouldn’t risk losing you.”

Caitlin smiled sadly, ignoring the way her vision wavered. “Oh, Harry. Yes, you would.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped, as if he thought about arguing with her, but decided she was right. She was. Harry would never stop pushing the boundaries of science and life. That was part of what she loved about him.

She just had to figure out if she loved him enough to live with everything that came with it.

Taking a deep breath, Caitlin turned away from him. “We need to figure out how to restore power faster. And we should consider opening up the upper levels for people in the slums to come to. It’s too cold for some of them, and the hospital here isn’t going to have the same setup as C.C. General.”

“I’ll go check on the rooms if you want to take stock of supplies. Once Cisco is here, I’ll head to the hospital and we can start taking as many as possible,” Harry said, both of them falling into the work that needed to be done.

Caitlin was nodding, her mental inventory already running through what they may need more of. Blankets, for sure, and they’d probably need more mugs for drinks. The upper floor could be for patients, but if they opened up the hallways to those just looking to escape the cold-

“What the hell is going on, guys? I leave for a week, and you blow up the city?”

Cisco’s voice was a welcome sound, and she turned, a smile on her face. She ran up and hugged him tightly.

“It is so good to see you,” she said, squeezing him again before letting him go.

He grinned. “I got you, Caitlin. Now, where should the magic be done?”

Harry stepped up, and she backed off, heading towards her office. There were more supplies in the utility closet on the second floor, but this was a good a place to start as any.

“See if you can pinpoint the biggest spots for power, where restoring it is going to do the most good,” Harry said, his voice completely calm.  “I’m heading out to the hospital to see if-”

He stopped abruptly, and despite herself, Caitlin turned to see what was wrong.

Two men stood in the doors behind Cisco, who turned and yelped, backing up until he was in line with Harry.

Caitlin recognized both of them. “Leonard?” she asked, coming back down towards the door.

There was nothing on his face as he glanced over to her. None of the easy, arrogant charm, or drawling humor she’d seen the last time they’d met. He looked empty, which was somehow more frightening to her than whatever could have been there.

“Dr. Snow,” he said quietly, the affected tone gone.

“Cait, that’s Captain fucking Cold,” Cisco hissed. “And Heatwave!”

Caitlin waved her hand at Cisco to shut him up, her heart pounding in her chest. “What’s wrong?”

Leonard swallowed, the movement looking painful, and the other man - Mick - spoke instead.

“The Count hit Gaudia. They drugged half the club, knocking them out.”

“Vertigo?” Harry asked, stepping up. He’d been privy to all of her work, and had known everything she had.

“No,” Mick said, shaking his head. “Just unconscious. Most of them woke up fine. Just some cuts from falling.”

Something was terribly, terribly wrong for them to be here. Caitlin’s fists clenched.

“Then why did they-” Harry was saying.

“Where’s Sara?” Caitlin interrupted, her voice quavering as she stepped in front of Harry and Cisco.

Leonard had yet to look away from Caitlin, and she saw the way something in his eyes cracked a little more.

“Where’s Sara?” she repeated, though she already knew the answer.

Leonard’s eyes lowered, and she followed his gaze, seeing the flowered shawl Sara had worn to work so many times, laughing as she donned it, because Leonard hated flowers. Now he was clutching it like a lifeline.

“The Count has Sara,” Leonard said.

Caitlin felt the ground shift slightly below her feet, and a hard hand grabbed her shoulder, holding her steady. Despite the words of five minutes ago, Caitlin leaned into Harry’s grasp. Their argument didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

Cisco glanced at them, his eyes narrowing, but he clearly pushed back whatever he’d been about to ask, and looked back at the two infamous former criminals. “What do you need?”

Mick chuckled without humor. “Don’t suppose you’ve got an arsenal, huh?”

Cisco’s face turned up into a cold grin Caitlin had never seen on him before. “Well…”

* * *

Sara slowly came to consciousness, keeping her breathing steady and her eyes shut. Years with the League came in handy, and this wasn’t the first time she’d been drugged. Her head was still fuzzy and aching, but bits and pieces of the abduction came back to her, and she pieced it together, her ears alert to any sounds.

No movement or inertia, so she wasn’t moving. There was no hint of gasoline or rumble of an engine, and the ground below her felt too hard to be a trunk of some kind. Ruled out being in a car. She could hear the drip of water, but it echoed strangely - a bathroom, maybe. Metallic smell, with plastic and the scent of old sweat.

It tugged on her memory, but her head spun and she had a hard time placing it.

Slight tensing of her muscles revealed that her hands were tied to something quite strong, and her legs were tied, but not attached to anything. It was cold, and clinked slightly. Handcuffs. She was missing the weight of her knives, and shoved back the thought of being searched while she was unconscious. Her arms ached and she was freezing, which said that she’d been here for quite a while already.

A door creaked open and Sara remained still, her breathing steady. Two sets of shoes on tiled floor.

“Jesus, Adrian,” said a familiar voice. Adams’s voice echoed strangely in the room, which was like a large bathroom or something equally as functional. “How much did you give her?”

“The same amount I’d give anyone who stabbed me in the face,” Adrian snapped, his words bouncing back harder.

“Fine. We’ll forego the video message and just call Snart. He’ll meet me at the wharfs with the deed ready. You’ll stay here with her in case he doesn’t come through.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Adrian asked.

“Then you’ll have given me bad information. If she’s not the leverage we need, then you’ll kill her.”

“And...if he does come through?”

Sara wasn’t expecting the boot to hit her squarely in the ribs, so the gasp of pain was genuine. Opening her eyes, she made sure to blink multiple times, twisting her head as if trying to place herself. Eyes open and head a little clearer from the pain and adrenaline, she finally recognized it as Ted’s Gym. She was in the locker room, ziptied on the floor to one of the benches between the rows of lockers.

She met Adams’s gaze, though, and the hatred that pulsed from his eyes was enough to have her give up on looking at her surroundings and keep her eyes on him.

“Accidents happen,” Adams said, his eyes sunken in and the constant movement showing he was on withdrawal from something. “As long as we get Gaudia, I really don’t give a shit.”

Sara laughed at him, then. “Do you really think people will still come to Gaudia if it’s not Leonard’s?”

“Shut up,” Adams snapped.

She did not. “You’ll drive it into the ground in a month. Shitty service and the inability to talk to women doesn’t make for a nice night.”

“I said shut up.”

“All you’ll get from Gaudia is the reminder that even when he’s not in the game, Leonard can still grind you into the ground. You couldn’t even kill Zytle.” She chuckled, shrugging and ignored the pain in her arms. “Of course, seeing as how Adrian here spilled the plan on that, maybe it’s not totally on you.”

Eyes narrowing, Adams turned to Adrian. “Explain.”

Adrian’s face was still bloodied, even with the bandage, and Sara grinned ferally at him. He glared at her. “They caught me, so I gave them a piece of information in exchange for my life.”

“We weren’t going to kill him. He was just easy to break.” She shifted until she was sitting up as best she could. No breaks or pains, other than in her chest right now. Good.

“You failed to mention that to me when you got back,” Adams said.

Adrian sneered, “Don’t try that bullshit with me. Without my drugs, you’d have nothing.”

“You know he’s calling himself the Count behind your back, right?” Sara added with a  grin.

Adams flushed with fury, but his phone rang and cut him off. He glanced at the screen, then looked to Adrian.

“You’ve got new product, right?”

“Well, it’s untested, and highly dangerous, but-”

“Test it on her,” Adams ordered, jerking his head at Sara.

She didn’t let him see her quail, and instead flipped him off.

He spat towards her, but missed. He left through the door, leaving it swinging behind him, and Sara caught a nerve-wracking glimpse of a roomful of men and weapons.

Adrian sighed, then looked to her. “You brought this on yourself, you know.” He went to a small case that was resting near the end of the bench. He opened it, revealing a half dozen vials and syringes. Sara swallowed, tugging at the cuffs, but with Adrian here, she couldn’t even attempt to pick them.

“This is my newest creation,” Adrian said reverently, pulling a blue vial out. “All the pain of the injected Vertigo, with the addition of some truly horrific hallucinations. At least,” he chuckled, “that’s what it’s supposed to do. So if you wouldn’t mind telling me how you’re feeling, it would be quite helpful for future versions.”

“You’re insane,” Sara said.

“You have to admit, being forced to face your greatest fears, that’s an amazing accomplishment.”

“My biggest fear right now is listening to you for another second.”

Adrian laughed, “Then let’s get on with it, shall we?”

He took out a syringe, and slowly removed several milliliters of the blue liquid. Sara tensed, looking for any way out of this, but coming up blank. If she had the use of her legs, or if it was anything but handcuffs, or…

She still struggled, but other than a single brutal headbutt, which cracked Adrian’s nose and caused him to swear and backhand her, she couldn’t do enough to stop Adrian as he jammed the needle into her arm, shaking his head to clear his vision, and depressed the plunger.

Almost immediately, Sara felt fire spreading out from where the needle had gone in, and it  _ hurt- _

“Sweet dreams, Sara.”

* * *

Leonard was trying not to look like he was avoiding Caitlin’s gaze, even though he was. She blamed him for losing Sara, either unconsciously or consciously, and he couldn’t do anything to correct her. He missed the Count’s people in his gym, he missed them drugging her water, he missed the danger that was obviously present, and when Sara needed him, he wasn’t there.

Mick and Cisco were playing with some sort of weapons off in the corner, a blast of heat and Mick’s uncharacteristic laugh being the only notes of interest. Cisco Ramon had gotten over his starstruck awe quickly enough and began pelting both of them with questions that got progressively less accusatory as time went on. Caitlin and Harrison were bent over the computers, searching for something, and Harrison was juggling a couple of phones at the same time, as was Cisco. They frequently met between their two workspaces to confer, then returned to their spots. Harrison Wells was a hard man to read, but Leonard say the way he hovered by Caitlin’s side, and realized they may have more in common than they both believed. Leonard stared at the burner phone in front of him, that he and Mick had picked up on the way here from one of his several safehouses, and waited for-

It rang.

He picked up immediately, noticing Mick going still and watching him, and Caitlin following suit.

“Yeah?”

_ “Adams got in touch,” _ Zari said, no hello or small talk.  _ “He said bring over the signed deed to the wharfs at nine tonight, and they’ll release Sara.” _

“Did you speak to her?” Leonard asked. Mick came over, and Leonard put the phone on speaker, knowing better than to try to hide anything from this group at this point. They knew everything that mattered already, and he might need their insight.

_ “No. And they didn’t say in what condition they’d release her. Or where.” _ Zari didn’t say out loud what they were thinking, and no one else did, either.

“Send the paperwork over to S.T.A.R. Labs,” Leonard said after a moment.

“You’re not seriously going to sign, are you?” Cisco asked. “Adams is a monster. If you give him Gaudia, he’s going to kill more people.”

“And if he doesn’t,” Mick jumped in, “Blondie’s gonna die.”

_ “I don’t know who the hell is there, and feeling a little annoyed about that,”  _ Zari began.

“Oh, I’m Cisco Ramon, of-”

_ “I don’t care. Boss, Adams is never going to let you walk out of there, deed or not. And...and Sara may already be-” _

“I know,” Leonard interrupted sharply. “And I don’t plan on letting Adams take Gaudia, but I’m not going to take it off the table. Not when they have her.”

Caitlin’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to get Sara before the meet.”

“During, actually,” Leonard said, his mind filling in the gaps of the plan he’d been working on since the shock of Sara’s abduction wore off. “Can you get everyone over there on speaker, Zari?”

_ “Sure, give me a second.” _

Harrison’s eyes were narrowed, but he glanced at Caitlin, then said, “Whatever you need, Mr. Snart. We’re in.”

_ “Alright, Boss,” _ Zari said.  _ “We’re all here. What’s the plan?” _

“Mick, Zari, myself, and the deed will go to the wharfs, while the rest of us head to Ted’s Gym, where they must be keeping Sara. We tear Ted’s Gym to the ground, incapacitate anyone who’s there, and get Adams and the wharfs arrested in the process.”

A beat of silence.

“There are like, a thousand things wrong with that plan,” Cisco said.

“Explain.”

Leonard’s command was apparently unexpected, but Cisco didn’t balk for long. “One, you don’t know Sara is at the gym, not for sure. If she isn’t, and you go after it, and even one of those guys gets out, she’s dead.”

“Valid. Was anyone watching the gym after Zari left?” Leonard asked.

_ “In the blackout, everyone was a little off schedule,”  _ Ray admitted.

He couldn’t blame them, and Cisco had a point, but, “Ted’s makes the most sense. It might not be for sure, but it’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

“Does this Count guy have a record?” Cisco asked, his eyes lighting up.

Mick frowned. “No. And he’ll be at the wharfs anyway. Why?”

“‘Cause my S.I.L.V.E.R. could’ve told me. It tracks everyone with a record...for police reasons. But if he doesn’t-”

“Use Sara,” Caitlin interrupted. Everyone looked at Caitlin, as the obvious hit Leonard a moment later.

“Sara has a record,” he remembered. “Use her.”

Cisco rolled away and began typing into the computer.

_ “Another thought?”  _ Ray said hesitantly into the phone.  _ “You seemed to have said that you’ll be at the wharfs and the gym at the same time.” _

“I will be. Well, I’ll appear to be. Rip is about my height. Grab my parka out of the closet and everyone will just assume it’s Captain Cold’s grand return. Adams loves a bit of theatrics, he’ll appreciate it. I’ll sign the deed and send it over, just in case.”

“And bonus if he gets shot,” Mick muttered.

_ “I heard that.” _

“Good.”

“How exactly do you expect to arrest Adams and his men at the wharfs?” Harrison spoke up.

“We call the cops and tell them.”

“How do you propose to get them there?” Harrison said, his words blunt, but not cruel. “You have no evidence, no proof, no warrant. Cops are running thin right now anyway. No cop in his right mind would help you.”

Leonard smiled tightly. “Good thing I know one not in his right mind. Jax, how would you like to turn me in?”

_ “I mean, sometimes, sure. But what for?” _

“You call Officer Doyle, or go to the station and get him. Tell him that Leonard Snart is making a deal with the Count at midnight at the wharfs, and it doesn’t matter what else is going on, Doyle will be there with a contingent of cops. Mention Sara is involved and he’ll be chomping at the bit.”

“Then how are we getting out?” Zari asked.

“A distraction.” Leonard glanced over at Mick, his hands still wrapped around the miniature flame thrower Ramon had allowed him to play with. “How about a bonfire, old friend?”

Mick grinned. “I like it.”

A ping from the computer had Cisco turning back to them. “You’re right. She’s at the Gym. I’ll let you know if she moves.”

A weight left Leonard’s chest as that piece was confirmed.

Caitlin stepped forward. “What can I do?”

This was the part he was least looking forward to, because while everything was fluid, this was the part that he needed to have perfectly right. “Dr. Snow, you’re with me at the gym.”

Harrison opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly, glancing at Caitlin. She frowned slightly. “Why?”

“If I know Adams, we’re going to need that antidote,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened, “I don’t know if it’s ready.”

“It’ll have to be.”

She nodded after a moment, going back to the computer she had been working on earlier, her shoulders straight. Leonard glanced at the phone. “Get me the papers to sign. Be ready to move by seven. Everyone needs to be in place by nine. Jax, make the call at 8:45.”

_ “Got it, Boss. Be careful.” _

“You, too.” Leonard hung up, pocketing the phone and getting to his feet.

Ramon approached him, a calculating look in his eyes. “You ever used a gun, Snart?”

“Several times. Why?”

“I think I have something you might really like.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara sees things.  
> Leonard shoots things.  
> Caitlin fixes things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inexcusable delay. I lost enthusiasm for this, and started putting it off, then we were moving. But I'm back, and there's only one chapter left!

Sara was burning.

Every inch of her skin was on fire, there was no relief. It burned along her arms and legs, along her back and stomach, inside of her mouth and ears, in her eyes.

Everything was burning.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

She could see people walking, moving just outside of her field of vision. Just in the corners of her eyes, as she was turning away, trying to find some relief from the burn. She saw Laurel, her father, Nyssa, Leonard, Caitlin…

Sometimes they spoke, but she couldn’t hear what they said. Sometimes they were screaming, and she heard that. They shouted for her, in pain, and she heard them blaming her, but she couldn’t get to them. She couldn’t even see what was happening. She just knew that they were hurting, it was her fault, and she couldn’t help them.

It took her longer than it should have to realize that this was meant to be her pain. Her greatest fear. All the people she cared about in pain, just outside of her reach. Surrounded by everyone she loved, but still alone.

Distantly, she knew this was made up. She knew that this was the drug, but it didn’t ease the pain. Ras had been a proponent of being prepared for anything, including poison or torture, so those had been worked into their routines in Nanda Parbat. She’d been trained to withstand all manner of pain, both mental and physical. Most of her scars weren’t from the jobs she’d run, they’d come from the training she had to endure in silence.

It was still a battle not to scream.

She felt her heart pounding, could feel the pain in her limbs, the shallowness of her breath, and she knew she couldn’t keep this up forever. This amount of stress on the human body wasn’t meant to be endured. And she could feel, beneath the flames that licked along her skin, the sharp crack of joints and tendons giving way. Adrian’s previous drug killed people, and there was no cure for that, let alone his new creation. This was her final stand.

Tears began to spill out, noiselessly, but she couldn’t stop the tears from coming. It burned, every rolling drop that slid down her cheeks was a trail of fire on her face.

She felt cold hands on her pulse point, and Adrian chuckled as he wrote something done. She tried to strike out at him, but the cuffs still contained her. Adrian patted her head, sending a blast of pain through her skull, then walked away.

Sara rolled onto her side, clenched her fists, and ignoring the sound of Adrian’s shoes on the ground, and Laurel’s quiet sobbing, her father’s screaming, and Leonard saying her name over and over again.

No, wait. Only one of those things was real. She pushed aside every noise but that of Adrian’s movements. She tracked him, her eyes watering, but her head starting to clear. She had a target. A mission. She began to pull at her cuffs, a distraction as she pulled her thumb down into her fist and pressed and pressed and pressed-

She heard Leonard’s voice and the sounds of bullets, but pushed it away, hearing Adrian go to the door. His back was to her now.

She might be dying, but not just yet.

Not yet.

She would make her final stand.

* * *

Leonard checked the gun at his hip one more time. “You ready, doc?”

At his side, Caitlin nodded once, her face pale.

They were just outside Ted’s gym, across the street. Most of Adams’s men had been pulled back to the wharfs, obviously expecting him to come there. He hoped Doyle had fallen for the bait. He hoped Rip had been convincing enough to get them in the door. He hoped Mick was ready with the distraction.

The panic from earlier had abated. It wouldn’t help anyone.

“Stay back, until I call you in. Don’t take stupid chances, and don’t drop that vial,” he said.

“I won’t,” Caitlin said, clutching the antidote she’d created. It was based off of the previous Vertigo, but Caitlin explained that if most of the ingredients were the same, it would be enough to get Sara somewhere to help her more. “Don’t get yourself shot.”

Leonard smiled tightly, then walked across the street.

There were a dozen ways he could play this. He could have snuck in the back, grabbed Sara, and attempted a quiet rescue, but that meant people coming after them, and Sara would need time to recover, without moving. He could have staked out the gym for a few hours, taking out men one by one, but that gave them too much time to figure it out, to move Sara, or to decide she wasn’t worth the risk.

The one way they wouldn’t expect the infallible and unpredictable Captain Cold to take was the front door. So he walked up to the front door.

The sentry had his face frozen, and slumped to the ground before he had a chance to scream. Leonard put his foot through the door, a blast of ice keeping the two by the door from grabbing their guns, and stepped through, knocking one unconscious with the butt of his cold gun, the other he sent through the window next to the door. He took a swift glance around as shattered glass jangled across the floor. Emergency lights were active, casting a dull, orange glow over everything. The boxing ring was covered with boxes, Adams in the midst of his move, still. The other five men in the main part of the gym were frozen - in fear, not because of his gun - and Leonard leveled his best glare at them, his voice low and icy with rage.

“Where’s my girl?”

They glanced at one another, then lunged at him, bullets flying as Leonard dove behind a box, an arc of glacial frost speeding towards them. Two men screamed in pain, one shouted, “What the fuck?!” and Leonard was moving again, rolling out from behind the stacked punching bags and shooting again, immobilizing another one and running behind the blast to come up in front of the last two. One got a suckerpunch in on Leonard’s side, so he snarled and kneed him in the stomach, forcing him down, before grabbing his shoulder and slamming his knee into his face and knocking him down permanently. The other received a blow from the side of his gun, before Leonard shot him in the chest, point blank.

The start of a chemical setup to the side was frozen immediately, and Leonard made sure to put his boot through the ice, shattering it all.

He looked around, seeing no one moving. Stepping back to the entrance, he opened it, about to wave for Caitlin to come in, but he heard the creak of a door.

Leonard’s hand tightened around the handle of his gun, as the Doctor - Adrian - stepped into the room, a pistol in his hand. He hovered just in the doorway, the gun aimed at Leonard, but that wasn’t what Leonard’s attention snapped to.

He could hear Sara behind him. She was crying.

Leonard took a step forward, and Adrian pulled back the hammer.

“Oh, I wouldn’t, Captain Cold.”

Leonard smiled, stopping. “I have the feeling that you aren’t just some pill-pusher, Adrian.”

“You’d be right. I’m the Count,” Adrian said, propping the door open with a box, never taking his eyes off Leonard. Not stupid, leaving an exit behind him.

“Thought that was Adams,” Leonard said, stepping parallel to him, trying to get a glimpse of Sara behind him, without luck. The tattoo flashed in his mind, and he could have kicked himself for being so thick. “Ah, both of you?”

“He’s the face. I’m the brains.” Adrian smiled tightly.

“So Vertigo is yours, then?”

Adrian’s smile grew bigger. “Vertigo and so much more.”

Leonard held in his flinch as Sara cried out from inside the locker room, her voice bouncing off the walls. “New product, then?”

“Something I’m trying out. Thanks for the test subject.”

It took everything in him not to freeze Adrian’s smug head, but the gun leveled at Leonard’s chest kept him still.

Adrian took Leonard’s silence for fear, and his smile grew larger. “Didn’t expect you’d roll over for some girl. I expected more from the great Captain Cold.”

Leonard holstered his gun. “Don’t much trust in your definition of rolling over. And as for expecting more…” Leonard glanced around the room, at the six unconscious or groaning men on the ground, and the one outside the window, before turning his cold gaze back to Adrian. “I’m happy to deliver.”

Adrian swallowed, fear palpable in his aspect as he looked at the unconscious security and muscle that Leonard had disposed of so easily. “Why are...you’re supposed to be with Adams.”

“Someone is there,” Leonard said lazily. “The cops. They’re shutting down this whole operation, and they’re coming here next.” Lie, but Adrian didn’t know any better.

“You were supposed to give it up.”

“I’m nothing if not unpredictable,” Leonard retorted.

“If the cops are coming, you’ll be taken in, too.”

“Perhaps,” is all Leonard said, confidence oozing off of him.

Adrian blanched, his eyes darting to either side.

“Give me Sara, alive, and you can go,” Leonard said lowly.

 

Adrian’s hand shook. “No. No, I have the cards here. If you don’t let me go, I’ll kill her!”

“You lost all leverage the second you hurt her.”

One of the men groaned in pain, and Adrian’s eyes locked onto him, fear rolling off of him. So much so that he missed the movement in the door, but Leonard saw it. He took a step forward-

Sara lurched out of the locker room, her hair plastered to her face and shoulders, her eyes red rimmed and dark, blood vessels burst. Her left hand - her thumb was broken and cuffs were dangling off of her right wrist. Her ankles, the chain on those was broken, the skin beneath the cuffs raw and bloodied. He saw all of this, but couldn’t do anything before Sara got behind Adrian.

His gaze gave it away, because Adrian turned, catching sight of Sara behind him. “How did you-”

Sara punched him so hard he spun slightly, falling to his knees as he clutched at his face, his gun spinning across the floor. “You bitch, I’ll-”

Sara got behind Adrian, grabbing his head, and wrenched it once, viciously, to the side.

Adrian didn’t make another sound as he slumped to the ground.

Leonard ignored the body, stepping closer to Sara.

She didn’t even seem to see him, her eyes staring over his shoulder. She shuddered in pain, her eyes unfocused, and shoulders rounded in exhaustion.

“Sara,” Leonard said quietly, coming nearer to her.

She flinched, her eyes closing, and took a step closer to him.

Then she collapsed.

Leonard lunged forward, catching her head before she hit the ground, cradling her. “Caitlin!” he shouted. “Caitlin, now!”

He heard running footsteps, but his entire focus was on Sara.

“Stay with me, Lance,” he murmured, pillowing her head on his lap.

Her hand, still with the cuffs around it, reached up, as if she wanted to touch him, but hesitated. He took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips.

“Sara, look at me.”

Her skin was warm, too warm, and he could see blood crusting at her ear. But she’d made it this long, she was still alive now, and that meant she would make it. She had to make it.

“Sara.”

Her eyes opened, glassy and out of focus, but she looked up at him, and a smile tilted one side of her mouth.

“...real?” she whispered.

Leonard nodded, hearing Caitlin kneeling next to him, pulling Sara’s other arm straight and taking the cork off the syringe. She was crying, but it was silent, tears just pouring down her face as she looked over her friend.

“Yeah, Sara,” Leonard said, keeping his voice calm. “It’s real. We’re here. Caitlin and I are real.”

“‘M sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, squeezing her hand gently, seeing Caitlin depress the plunger filled with the antidote. “You’re fine. Nothing to be sorry for.”

She shuddered in his arms, her back arching off the floor, and he tried to hold her still, “Caitlin?!” he asked, looking over at her.

Caitlin was crying openly, checking Sara’s pulse with her fingers, “I don’t- I don’t know!”

“Sara,” Leonard said, gathering her close, “Stay awake, okay? Keep your eyes open, look at me.”

“We have to get her back to the Lab, it’s the only place with enough to stabilize her,” Caitlin said, still crying, but trying to remain calm.

Her broken hand grabbed at his arm, but she didn’t seem to register any more pain. “Don’t leave...please.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He tucked her head into his shoulder, getting to his feet and cradling her in his arms. “I’m staying with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Caitlin’s fingers began to burn, and she started, lowering the mug she’d been holding thoughtlessly, and rearranging it to pick it up by the handle. She inhaled slowly, keeping her composure, and returned to her vigil.

Leonard and Caitlin had gotten Sara back to S.T.A.R. Labs, but she’d dropped into unconsciousness just before arrival. Caitlin had her stabilized in her office. Her vitals were all heading back to normal, which was a good sign, but she had yet to wake up. Though she smiled, and told Leonard that it was still a good sign, Caitlin wasn’t positive, and she knew he could see through her lies.

He had yet to leave her side in the office, uncomfortably straight in one of the chairs, her unbroken hand clasped between his. It had been an hour since they’d gotten back, and he showed no signs of going anywhere.

Harrison kept glancing at Caitlin from across the room, obviously making sure she was okay. Part of her wanted to go over and wrap herself around him, keeping everything else at bay for a few more minutes, while the other part of her knew that it wasn’t the best move at the moment. They needed to talk, and she wasn’t mentally prepared for it just yet.

Cisco was uncharacteristically quiet, working silently on his computer, and only looking up when Caitlin went to check in on Sara, waiting for the shake of her head to show nothing had changed before returning to his work.

Caitlin heard the footsteps coming down the hallway and tensed, turning to face the newcomers.

Mick, Zari, and Rip, in a very large blue parka, entered the room, soot-streaked.

Caitlin opened her mouth, but no words came out. Cisco came to her rescue, “Well?”

“Adams’s entire operation was just arrested,” Zari said, sounding exhausted, but pleased. “And, when we left, Adams was squealing on Ted’s Gym, too. So anything left there is bound to help out. The Vertigo has been confiscated, and all the lieutenants are turning on one another. It’s not completely over, but with the drug in police custody, anyone who takes it will be able to get an antidote.”

“And the club?” Harrison asked.

“The transfer deed was unfortunately caught in the fire,” Rip said, glaring slightly at Mick. “Meaning it is still owned by Mr. Snart.”

Caitlin let out a sigh of relief. Vertigo was gone. Adams was done. And Adrian was…

“Blondie?” Mick asked.

Caitlin looked over her shoulder at Leonard’s still profile. “She’s here, and she’s been given the antidote. We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

“But she will wake up, right?” Zari asked.

“I hope so,” Caitlin said quietly.

Cisco forced a smile, “Of course she will, Cait’s the best doc we know, and she’s getting the best possible care. You got a dealer off the street, you kept your club, this is going to turn into a whole happily ever after scenario, just you wait.”

Rip scoffed, “Yes, because a city-wide blackout is the perfect backdrop for a fairy tale.”

Cisco glared at Rip. “Actually.” He clicked his mouse, and the lights came back on. “The city-wide blackout is over.”

“How did you do that?” Mick growled.

“Turns out the main issue was at the electrical company. I fixed it.” Cisco grinned at their faces. “I take thanks in the form of praise and money.”

“Nice work, Ramon,” Harrison said quietly.

The shock on Cisco’s face almost made Caitlin smile, but she looked back at the room that held Leonard and Sara, and found it hard to do so. Chatter started up behind her, and she ignored it until she heard someone come up next to her.

“It’ll be okay,” Mick said, his eyes on the duo. “Blondie’s too stubborn to die. Boss is too stubborn to quit.”

Caitlin nodded once, forcing herself to look away. “We have rooms here, if you want to stay until she wakes up. On the second floor.”

“That’d be good. Thanks.”

“Hey, big guy,” Cisco said brightly from his seat, “I’ll take that gun back now.”

Mick merely walked out of the room.

“Yeah,” Zari said, following Mick out, “you’re not getting that back.”

Caitlin fell into step behind them, her mood slightly more hopeful.

* * *

Despite his exhaustion, Leonard refused to sleep. He’d heard Mick and the others come in, and discerned enough of their conversation to know they wouldn’t have to worry about Adams or Adrian again. He wanted to thank them for what they’d done, what they’d all risked in helping him, but remained where he was instead, knowing that Mick and Zari would understand.

His elbow on Sara’s bed, he rubbed his eyes, trying to push the tension away, and only serving to make it all worse. His other hand was around Sara’s cool one, where it had been since they’d gotten her into this bed, and where it would be until she woke up.

She’d asked him not to leave her. He wasn’t about to break his promise.

Caitlin said everything would be okay, but he saw in her expression that she wasn’t sure. Sara had stabilized, yes, but that didn’t mean she was going to be okay. They wouldn’t know until she was awake, and that was only if-

No. Sara would wake up. He hadn’t made it through 40 years of solitude, multiple attempts on his life and his club, and a career of thieving, just to lose the one thing that really mattered now.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, then opened them, staring at her so still on the bed. Caitlin had suggested talking to her, but he had no idea what to say. Everything he thought of sounded too much like giving up or saying goodbye. And he damn well refused to give up. Not now.

But as he looked at her, her hair clean and loose, the medical gown so unlike her with its severe simplicity, and the tubes and wires coming off of her limbs, he decided he’d try anything.

“If you wake up,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse, “you can wear flowers for the rest of your life, and I won’t complain about it ever again.”

He shook his head at the futility of it, his eyes sliding shut and burning slightly. He couldn’t leave to sleep, because that felt too much like giving up, and if he gave up, he’d have to face that what happened was his fault, and that Sara was gone, and-

“I like your complaining.”

The voice was cracked and rough, but it was unmistakable.

He opened his eyes, ready for a hallucinated disappointment, but meeting a bloodshot blue. Her lips were split and red, but they turned into a small smile as he watched.

“Half the reason for the flowers is to get you to complain,” she continued in the broken whisper, which sounded like the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

“Then I’ll be sure to complain as much as possible,” he finally answered, both of them ignoring the crack in his voice as his grip tightened around her hand.

She squeezed back slightly, pain still obvious in her joints and limbs. “You stayed.”

“For as long as you need me.”

The tiny smile flared again, and she closed her eyes. “How about forever?”

“Deal.”

It was the easiest deal he’d ever made.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara makes some changes.  
> Caitlin has a date.  
> Leonard meets someone.  
> The End.

Sara hefted the last box onto her hip and shut the door of her empty office.

“Is that it?”

Sara turned, seeing Caitlin standing behind her, a mug in her hand, and a wistful smile on her face.

“That’s it. P.I. Lance’s office is officially closed.” Sara stacked the box next to the door. There were multiple piles, some to shred, some to donate, and the smallest pile to move.

It was several weeks since the incident with Adrian, and Sara had mostly healed. Her spica cast was uncomfortable, and she still had three more weeks in it. She was losing her mind, but grateful Caitlin was there to help with some of the muscle sprains and physical therapy. Her physical prowess and skills had always been a point of pride for Sara, so to have to work to get back to baseline was embarrassing. At least only Caitlin saw her sweating and cursing over the most basic of exercises to rebuild her muscles after the strain.

“The end of an era.” Caitlin put her mug down on the coffee table. It was still early, only midmorning, but Sara was all packed. There hadn’t been much, once she shut down her business. And considering how many of her clothes and bathroom things had already migrated over to Gaudia.

“Whatever will you do without me?” Sara asked, arching her brow.

Caitlin snorted. “Yes, without the stalkers and odd hours and weird questions in the middle of the night. And it’s not like you’ve been sleeping her recently anyway.” She waggled her eyebrows at Sara.

Sara rolled her eyes, but couldn’t dispute that. She had been spending every night at Gaudia, curled up with Leonard, who didn’t seem to mind that the nightmares woke her screaming and crying. Sometimes he was already awake and at the bar next to the living room. Sometimes he was already awake and just watching her. But every time, he talked her down, reminding her where she was and that she was safe. It was a work in progress, but she was no longer having nightmares every night.

Sara laughed, but it was short. “I’m sorry I was a terrible roommate.”

Caitlin crossed the room and hugged her tightly. “You’re amazing, and I’m happy for you. I’m going to miss you.”

Sara hugged her back. “I’m going to miss you, too. But Gaudia’s not far.”

“Oh, Snart’s already promised me free drinks for life for saving you, so you’ll be seeing me quite often.”

Sara’s smile stuttered for a moment, still not entirely prepared for jokes about her near-demise, at least without notice. Mick made them constantly, but Caitlin’s were rarer, and all the most startling for it. But she recovered. “You deserve it.”

Caitlin drew back, her brows drawing together. “You called that doctor I recommended?”

“Yeah,” Sara answered. She’d folded and refolded the card with the psychiatrist’s number on it several dozen times before finally dialing. “We meet next week.”

“Good. It’ll help.”

“Sure you’ll be good here all alone?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine. What about you, Miss I-Don't-Do-Commitment? Moving in after a few months?”

Knowing that the skepticism was justified, Sara just smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Caitlin asked.

“This the last of them?”

Both Caitlin and Sara turned, seeing Leonard in the door. His moving attire was far different from his club clothes, the tight jeans and sweater having even made Caitlin speechless for a moment. His sleeves were rolled up after an hour of moving Sara out of her apartment and into the truck he and Mick and brought over.

“Yeah,” Sara said, unable to help the smile that spread across her face at his voice. “That’s it.”

“Finally,” Mick groaned. “If I have to move another damn box of weapons-”

“Complain any more, and she’ll use them on you,” Leonard interrupted, with a faint smile. He picked up one of the final boxes, Mick grabbing the last two, and said to Sara over his shoulder. “We’ll see you downstairs, Lance. See you around, Doc.”

“See you,” Caitlin called. She waited until the door shut behind them. “I do like him.”

“Me too. So I’ll see you at Gaudia tonight?” Sara said, grabbing her jacket and working it on over her cast.

Caitlin hesitated. “Um. Tomorrow night. I have a...date.”

Sara froze, her eyes lifting to Caitlin, who was blushing now. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask-”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Fine,” Sara huffed. “But know, if he hurts you, I can kill them, even if I only have one hand.”

“I have no doubt.” Caitlin laughed after a moment, then helped Sara pull the coat on over her shoulders. “I love you, Sara.”

“I love you, too.” Sara hugged her tightly. She handed Caitlin her mail key and extra set, keeping one for the apartment in case of emergencies, grabbed her bag, and shut the door behind her.

The February air was crisp and windy, but it was just a short walk to the pickup truck Leonard had rented. Mick and he were just tying off the last of her boxes, and Leonard gestured towards the cab. She didn’t bother trying to argue with him about this. They’d already had several arguments about her working at the bar while she was recovering, and she’d won those, so she decided to let him have this one.

Mick and Leonard piled in on either side of her after another couple of minutes, the heat still lukewarm. She leaned a little into Leonard as he put the truck into gear and started back towards Gaudia.

Leonard had no issue on the road in the mid-morning traffic. The city had recovered quickly after the power loss, and though S.T.A.R. Labs still had some smear campaigns run on them, it was also very obvious that they had fixed it. And, considering that the particle accelerator had actually worked, the notoriety and leap in scientific advancement had kept them from serving too severe a punishment.

Now, Central City was hosting several scientific conventions as they considered how to use and adapt the technology. When Caitlin wasn’t working on Sara’s physical therapy, she was taking one scientist after another on tours of the lab, and meeting with many an imposing figure. It was good for her, to be recognized for something so good, after all the work she’d done to keep it open. Sara had even caught an interview with Harry, who said that without Dr. Snow, S.T.A.R. Labs would’ve never recovered from their first failure. It didn’t quite make up for what had happened (which she’d only gotten out of Caitlin a week after everything went down), but Sara was willing to cut him a little slack. But only a little.

“You okay?” Leonard asked as Mick fiddled with the radio.

“I’m okay.” Sara nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

She felt Leonard smile, and he wrapped his fingers over her knee, driving them all back to Gaudia.

* * *

Caitlin checked her reflection in the window, adjusting a wayward curl before she stepped into the restaurant. It was a classy Greek restaurant, family run so as to be small and intimate, while being upscale enough to serve as excellent first date material. Hanging her coat on the rack by the door, she was about to speak to the hostess when she caught sight of a man getting to his feet. She smiled briefly at the hostess, then crossed the carpeted floor.

“Hi,” Caitlin said. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you made it.” He pulled out her chair, and Caitlin took her seat. He returned to his chair, and settled into it.

The suit was dark and severe, but the white collared shirt, with no tie and unbuttoned a few at the throat softened it a bit. It was formal without being stilted, and Caitlin was glad she’d decided on the simple green dress, adding drop earrings and doing her hair up. Nothing too crazy, but still nice enough to be seen as putting forth the effort.

He seemed to appreciate it, as his mouth quirked up at the side. “You look beautiful, Snow.”

Her smile was genuine. “Thanks, Harry. You look nice, too.”

Harrison’s smile was wide, and almost comfortable. “Just nice?”

“Very handsome,” she amended, trying to put him at ease.

The waitress came to take their drink orders, and their conversation spilled over to food and wine for a few minutes, but that awkward pause came in again, and Caitlin had to work not to apologize for it.

The past few weeks hadn’t given them much opportunity to talk. First, Sara’s recovery and rehabilitation, then Harrison hosting senior scientists from around the world, most of whom showed up unannounced. Caitlin knew there was no one like Harrison Wells, but some of their guests rivaled him for arrogance. Every day was a blur of meetings and tours and therapy and additional research, so the two of them rarely conversed about anything other than work.

But, in the quiet moments after the closed the lab down and cleaned up from the day, when Cisco begged off early because he got in before them to work on his power grid project for the police, and it was just the two of them...neither of them broached the subject of their relationship. Caitlin had returned to her apartment, and Harrison seemed to keep his distance.

Until one day, after she had endured one too many barbs at her contribution (or supposed lack thereof) from uppity scientists and snapped, reaming them up one side and down the other before listing her numerous accomplishments and then kicked the offenders out. Harrison had stared at her for a good twenty seconds before abruptly saying, “Will you go to dinner with me?”

And Caitlin, adrenaline pumping through her and eager to finally have a discussion with him, had said, “Yes.”

Of course, Cisco happened to be present, which resulted in supersonic noises and complaints of the nonexistent PDA which he had been subjected to. They had ignored him, setting a date for that Thursday and Harrison picking the restaurant.

Which led them here. Still awkward silences, but progress.

Harry cleared his throat, “How’s Sara?”

“Moved out today, actually. She’s all settled in at Gaudia now, full time bartender.”

“That’s good. That Snart seems like...he can keep up with her.”

Caitlin smiled, “Yeah, he does.”

“And the apartment, are you able to afford it on your own?”

She nodded. “Yes. My lease is up in April, though, so I’m looking to get out of there. Something smaller.”

She knew Harrison well enough to see that he had something he really wanted to say, but she was impressed that he kept it quiet. “I hope you find something a little closer to the lab,” he said instead, taking a sip of his wine.

“Me too.”

Work and their visiting scientists carried the conversation through most of the meal and the bottle of wine, and into a second one. It wasn’t until dessert that Harrison put his fork aside and leaned in slightly.

“Snow, I want to apologize. Though you were right, and I would have tested the accelerator anyway, I should have told you.”

She saw the lines around his eyes and mouth, but said, “Yes, you should have.”

His smile was self-deprecating. “I can’t promise that I won’t make a stupid decision like that again, because we both know it would be a lie. But I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you or anyone else.”

She opened her mouth, but Harry took her hand.

“I know there’s a long list of examples on how my words and deeds haven’t lined up. I know that my lying to you while trying to build this,” he gestured between the two of them, “could have broken it completely, and I’m only here through some kind of cosmic miracle-”

“And my infinite patience,” she added dryly.

He inclined his head, acknowledging that. “But I want this to work. I did it out of order and then royally fucked it up, and I have no larger regrets. I know you don’t believe me, but if I had to choose between the particle accelerator and you…I thought I knew better, I thought I knew what mattered more, but the past few weeks have shown me that I chose wrong.”

Caitlin smiled faintly, appreciating the words, even if she didn’t entirely believe him. She wanted to, though.

“Work will always be important to me, and I will choose wrong again. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Snow.”

Squeezing his hand, Caitlin leaned forward as well. “Work should be important to you, and sometimes, it will be the right choice. I just don’t want to be excluded again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, Harry.”

They broke apart as the waitress came back to clear their plates and left the bill, and they returned to lighter topics. They paid and Harrison helped her put on her coat as they walked to the sidewalk. Caitlin summoned a car, pretending not to see Harrison’s faint frown as the offer for him to drive her home remained unvoiced. As she tapped at the screen, he pulled his own phone out, pressing a button and the screen lit up.

It buzzed two, three, seven, eighteen, twenty-six, thirty-four,  _ forty-two _ times before it finally stopped, notification after notification appearing on the screen.

“What the hell was that about?” Caitlin asked, watching him start to pocket it.

He huffed quietly, “Everything catching up. I turned it off.”

“You what?” Caitlin asked, frowning.

“I turned it off.”

“You never turn off your phone,” Caitlin said. “Technology was made to be used and the idiots who don’t think so should be quarantined until they’ve seen the artificial light of day. You say that. Often and loudly.”

He merely shrugged. “We were on a date.”

For a moment, she just stared at him as he pocketed his phone.

Then, Caitlin grabbed his jacket and tugged him down towards her, using her heels and his sudden lack of height to her advantage as she pressed her lips to his. Harrison was still for a heartbeat, before one arm wrapped around her back, the other tilting her face up slightly as he returned the kiss. His lips were soft, tasting like the baklava they’d had for dessert, and almost hesitant. She kept it short, breaking away just far enough to breathe. Her eyes opened, catching Harrison’s open as well, dazed and surprised, but hopeful. He closed the distance the second time, slow and sweet, taking his time.

A car horn honked next to them, and they broke apart, his hand still on her back. Caitlin waved at the Uber driver, then glanced up at Harry.

“Saturday?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Dinn-”

“Yes.”

“Six or seven at Ricci’s?”

“Yes.”

“ _ Harry _ .”

“Six.”

“See you tomorrow.” She got into the car, letting Harry close the door behind her. As the driver put on his signal to get back into traffic, Caitlin rolled down her window.

“Harry?”

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the sidewalk, the same hopeful look on his face as he looked at her.

Caitlin smiled. “I love you, too.”

Her car pulled into the street, but Caitlin could have sworn that she could still see Harry’s smile from two blocks away.

* * *

Leonard sipped his drink, leaning against one of the walls and watching his bustling club. Business was booming, but it wasn’t the numbers that made him smother his smile behind his glass.

Mick was grinning at the doors, yelling at someone out of Leonard’s sight, obviously denying him entrance. Zari was walking through the crowd, with the now-familiar form of Nate Heywood dogging her feet. Both of them wore smiles and Zari seemed to spend more time than usual with her eyes up. Charlie was much of the same, her indefatigable grin and energy pulling the crowd with her as she jumped and sang to her own music. Ray was laughing, a crowd around him, and Leonard had seen Nate popping back and forth between Ray and Zari.

And Sara-

“Snart.”

Leonard closed his eyes briefly, that voice immediately sparking a tension headache, before turning to face Officer Doyle, in civilian clothes for once.

Leonard hadn’t seen nor heard of Doyle since the successful raid of the wharfs. And he’d hoped to keep it that way. Apparently, he had used up all of his luck, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be too upset by that.

This particular area was built in such a way that it wasn’t as loud here, thanks to Ray’s engineering. Doyle didn’t have to raise his voice for Leonard to hear him, but he did take a step closer.

It was silent for a moment, then Doyle huffed out, running his hand through his hair.

“Look, I know you don’t like me, and I don’t care for you, either, but...I know you only called me because you knew I’d go to the wharfs. So...I just wanted to say thanks for calling at all.”

Leonard frowned slightly. “Your mistake is thinking you’re the only one in this city who cares about what happens to it.”

“I get it. But thanks.” Doyle’s eyes darted over to the bar, where Sara was slinging drinks quickly, if without her usual flair and techniques. “She got pulled into it, too?”

It wasn’t much of a question, so Leonard didn’t bother answering.

“I saw the gym,” Doyle said next. “The bodies.”

Leoanrd’s poker face had never been so useful.

“I also saw the hospital. Zytle’s crew.” Doyle ran his eyes over the club slowly, like he was seeing it for the first time. “The gym scene was given to me, after the success of the wharfs. Saw evidence of a prisoner, who escaped. We also found vials of what my techs are saying are a terrifying drug, used to torture.”

Leonard’s jaw jumped, well aware of what the drug did and the lasting effects of it.

“I’ve pegged it as an internal power struggle, motive being the arrest of the Count.” He met Leonard’s eyes squarely. “Case closed. Good riddance.”

“Thank you.” The words didn’t taste quite as bad as he thought they would.

“The Royal Flush Gang has one less person on their payroll,” Doyle continued quietly. “The Captain wasn’t thrilled, but after everything...he didn’t want morale to fall. Written warning, and enough door duty for months, but...it’s good.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Doyle stuck out his hand to Leonard. “Thank you, Snart. For making the call. For saying what you did. For doing what you did.”

Leonard shook his hand. “I look forward to...an effective working relationship.”

Doyle almost smiled. “That sounds good to me.”

Leonard released his hand, and pulled a card out of his pocket. “Drinks are on the house tonight, Officer Doyle. Enjoy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Snart.”

Doyle vanished back into the crowd, and Leonard took the cue to return to the bar.

He didn’t slide into his usual seat immediately, choosing instead to stay back and watch Sara in action. Despite her arguments to the contrary, he knew her wrist hurt by the end of each night. But he knew better than to try and win that fight. He’d at least gotten her to agree to him and Mick moving her.

Yes, that was also a change.

Living together, though not entirely smooth, hadn’t been as difficult as he’d thought it would be. He wanted her here, in Gaudia, not just for himself, but because this is where she belonged.

Though, he did enjoy waking up with her. Even the nights where one or both of them had nightmares, Leonard woke up to a sleep-warm Sara in his arms. On the nights she didn’t have nightmares, he woke to kisses on his face and neck, slow and warm, leading to more. The nights he couldn’t sleep, it might be a variety of nightmares. Some were older scars that were still healing, but most were newer. Him getting to the gym too late, Sara unable to recognize him, Adrian making good on his threat…

Leonard wasn’t usually a physically affectionate person, but Sara seemed to be an exception. Especially recently, he needed to be near her, brief small touches to reassure himself that she was still there. Still here with him.

Everyone was still recovering, but they were getting back to their new normal.

He saw Sara pour a beer and add a twist of lime to another drink, placing both down in front of a couple with a quick wink.

Then her eyes darted over to him, and she cast him a wink, making it obvious she knew he was watching.

Giving up on the pretense, he came forward and claimed his seat. Sara was in front of him in moments.

“Hey,” she said, refreshing his drink.

“Busy night?” he asked.

“Busy enough.” She glanced over at the wall, where a man was leaning against it, as he had been for the past two weeks. “I see Zytle’s keeping his word.”

“Technically Gaudia’s in his turf now, but the understanding is in place.”

“Good to be the King, huh?” she teased.

Leonard nearly rolled his eyes. Zytle’s nickname had become infamous among the men he’d sent to patrol the place, and his beloved employees had taken to it quickly. Within a few weeks, the constant presence of Zytle’s men wouldn’t be necessary, but it was helpful now.

Sara laughed, running her fingers over the back of his hand. Leonard caught them at the edge of his grasp, squeezing them gently before letting her go. She smiled, then turned back to her work.

As they closed down that night, Charlie kept the music going, just quieter. Leonard helped Ray sweep up, as Nate and Mick collected the glasses left around the club. Zari and Sara were cleaning behind the bar, singing to themselves while Charlie checked her equipment for the next night.

As he gathered a bag of trash, he saw Sara hauling one out to the back as well, and quickly fell into step with her.

Holding the door open for her, Leonard followed Sara into the alley. They tossed the bags into the dumpster and Sara brushed off her hands. She grinned up at him, and Leonard took advantage of the quiet moment to cup her cheek and kiss her.

He felt her quiet laugh before she wrapped her arms around his neck, the cast an uncomfortable weight for both of them, but sliding into the kiss. Time for just the two of them had been rare, not that the cleaning and reopening of the club after the power loss hadn’t been important. Leonard had just...reprioritized a bit.

Sara stepped a little closer, and Leonard wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to deepen the kiss.

“Oi, I do hate to interrupt,” a voice called from the end of the alley.

Leonard and Sara immediately broke apart, turning to face the alley mouth. Her hand immediately went to her belt and Leonard stepped slightly in front of her bad arm.

A man stood by the street, the glow of a lit cigarette faintly illuminating the planes of a haggard face. “But I have what you might call urgent business.”

“What business would that be?” Leonard said, as the man approached. He wore a rumpled white shirt and suit pants, with a long tan coat over his shoulders. His eyes were sunken in and the smile on his face was hard.

The man glanced at them, his eyes narrowing. He gestured at them with the cigarette, “I take it you two are the supposed King and Queen of the Underworld?”

So Zytle’s title had caught on everywhere. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Sara muttered next to him, “Queen, huh?”

“What of it?” Leonard asked, ignoring.

“If you are, then I’d tell you that my name’s John Constantine, and I need your particular...skills to help me.”

“With what?” Sara asked, her hand leaving her belt as Constantine got closer.

He came within sight of the emergency light by their door, and now Leonard could pick out the shadows under his eyes, the growth of an untended beard, and the familiar look of depression. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“An eight year old girl. Name of Astra. She was taken by some less than pleasant folk, and I lost the trail here. I was hoping you could help me find her, and get her back home.”

“Who took her?” Leonard asked.

“A rival of the Casanova Club in Newcastle. Trying to use her as leverage for her dear old daddy to step down. He overestimated her father’s interest, and he’d got her here now. Rumor was he was going to join up with a bloke named the Count, but it appears you messed with that plan. Last I heard she was still being kept here.”

He heard Sara’s inhale and glanced at her. She met his gaze.

He knew what she was going to say. Of course he did, because it’s what he wanted to say, too. But the smaller, more selfish part of him wanted to tell this Constantine to find someone else to help him.

Turning, she slid her good hand into Leonard’s, squeezing it in silent encouragement. Sara smiled up at Leonard and he gave her an arched brow in return.

“It’ll be fun,” she said quietly.

“It’ll be dangerous,” he countered.

“That makes it fun.”

“Sara,” he said, exasperated.

“You know you want to.”

“No, what I  _ want _ is to-” His hand tightened around hers.

She interrupted him with a quick, hard kiss. “I love you, too.”

“Are you always going to be this much trouble?” he asked her.

“Absolutely.” She grinned, unrepentant.

“So, will you help me?” Constantine asked, sounding a little annoyed.

Sara and Leonard turned to him, joined at the hand, mirrored smirks on their faces.

“We’re in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delay aside, it's done! Augh.
> 
> Now what?


End file.
